“Slowing Down” by Andrew Teye.

She stood by the window, watching him intently. He kicked a pile of leaves on the side-walk before proceeding to open the door to the BMW. It was same BMW in which they had shared so many moments of unforgettable romance; a drop top which blitzed through Accra’s highways and the open outskirts roads. She recalled how often she let down her hair just to feel the wind blowing through it. He would often slow down after a mile or two just to kiss her before they sped off again. That was love…that was then.

Things had changed, He had changed. His life was speeding, He was moving fast but not with her. He was speeding all alone and far away from her.  If only he’d slowed down, paid more attention to her slowly communicated needs. Each time she pleaded with him slowly, he would respond too quick and bicker in fast speech. He loved the speed. She loved it too, but she knew when to slow down.
He slammed the door, started the BMW’s engine and sped off. Her tears were flowing, but not speedily.
This time, they were slow.

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