Monday, July 17, 2017


“I believe in Fate.” She said, smiling at him, her heart beating hard against her rib cage. He was the One, she could feel it in her bones. It was fate. It had to be.

As they stepped out of the Serendipity Café, she picked up a book from the pile in front of the bookstore, and wrote down her number in the old copy of Love in the Time of Cholera. As she put it back in the middle of the pile, she looked at him with sparkling eyes.

“Well if we’re meant to meet again… then we’ll meet again.”

And with that they parted, trusting their lives to an unknown force, that infallible and brutal sense of hope.

Years later, in a different country, an unexplored library around the corner, her hands shook as she opened a tattered copy of Love in the Time of Cholera, and found her writing sprawled across the last page.

The ink slowly spread, mixing in with her tears to form psychedelic patterns.
Fate finally confirmed what she’d cruelly spent her entire life learning.
She was always meant to be her own true love.

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