“Open the windows. Please….”, Kunle screamed. The prickly fire melting his lungs.
Kunle was a wolf in cheap clothing. He walked around with dying lungs, a cigar in his lips and an air of importance. He would huff and puff and threaten to blow every house down.
Kunle was blind. He would, in his final minutes see that the only house he blew down was his and the occupants were his lungs.
“Open the ….wind….”, came the lung cancer patient’s last words.
His mother would cry, because the hospital windows were wide open and she too howled like the wind.