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Chapter forty two~ Unrequited

'cos the hole inside my heart

is stupid deep. Stupid deep

The Earth is small, definitely spherical and most definitely always revolving around the sun. But why did it seem like our vast little world revolved around our darkest chaos?

The little things we expect, we desire, we long for, they just never seem to align with our luck. If she didn't know better, she would have concluded that we have been Ill-fated from our diaper days, from the day we formed our existence in the womb that bore us.

Maybe such ill fate could explain labor pains. The chaos that tallied with the shrill cries we unconsciously let out to embrace our disaster patiently waiting to rip our senses into shreds and control our lives in such catastrophe.

And such ill fate could only be the most logical explanation of why today of all days, of all the time in the world, of all places should Yara Chizaram Williams crash into Tola Makinde?

Tola held a red cup and slurred out incoherent words, peering straight at Yara
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