The Naked Truth

Themba woke up with a start. Outside, he could hear shrills and shouts of strident nervous voices as if their owners were fleeing something horrible.

He stretched out his hand expecting to feel the warmth of the beauty beside him but he only touched an empty cold space. He gazed the roof in complete bewilderment as he tried to work out what was taking place. A dense blanket of smoke had descended into the room and it choked him out of breath.

He rose, groping on the floor for his clothes but found none. His heart throbbed heavily against his chest as he dashed to her locker to find books and dresses. He fumbled with many garments as he tried to pick one to put on but to no avail. As a last option, he pulled off the bed-sheet and wound his hunky frame.

“Fire! Come out!” someone called.

This sprang him into action as he catapulted out of the room. The smoke now stung his half sleepy eyes. Someone screamed. There was a big sparkle of electric cables in the next room. Visibility became almost zero in the corridor. All the occupants were in complete pandemonium, wailing at the top of their voices as their fearful feet carried them downstairs with great speed.

Standing in the corridor, Themba saw big flames of fire leaping menacingly towards him and this was enough to make him find his way downstairs.

At the edge of the stairs, a pool of persons had huddled together resembling a flock during a thunderstorm. Their tear-glistering eyes gazed hopelessly at the burning three floored hostel.

Themba stood there motionless, staring at them. He could not walk past tem, no, not in that state. A ladies man, he had come for a one night stand. After all this was in the middle of the night and it would be queer for them to see him wound in a bed-sheet, coming out of a burning ‘female only’ residence. Notwithstanding his reputation, Themba did not want his girlfriend to get wind of his escapades, especially with his bed-mate this night.

From above, he could hear the ragging fire shimmering angrily. A foul stench of burning material issued out, mixed with a thick black blanket of smoke that sky-rocketed into the dark. The fiery flames ferociously engulfed one room after another burning everything they found on their way.

“The roof is falling!” someone yelled.

A deafening sound followed as the huge roof collapsed inside the blazing building. Themba turned to see fierce flames wagging numerous red tongues preparing to roast him alive.

A painful burning sensation on the left shoulder caused him to throw away the bed-sheet only to find that it was on fire. Now he was faced with a dilemma. He felt sweat cutting the sides of his face. The soot had blanketed his face and he looked like a dead person who had come back to complain about a spelling mistake on his death certificate. A surge of heat grilled his naked frame, then he charged forward, stark naked.

The women screamed in a medley of horror, disbelief and delight at the sight of a naked male figure, but it soon however turned into a joke.

“Fire-fighter!” someone called out.

“Look at the hose pipe below!”

All the women reeled in laughter.

“Whose beast?” another asked.

Like an injured rhino, Themba broke into a sprint, storming through the perplexed women, mindless of his nudity. His sturdy legs carried him with an incredulous swiftness until his naked figure got swallowed by the pitch black night.

To date, they are talking about the fireman of Fort’e who braved the inferno armed with nothing but his birthday suit and a powerful looking hosepipe.

This story is fictitious and a weird product of the writers fertile imagination. Any resemblance to any individual, living or dead is purely coincidental