A smile would cross your eyes as you remembered Tinuke slapping the back of your head and calling you her “personal fish” .
Life’s subtle irony.
The twirling waves, dour brown, would slap against your neck. A tear would form at your lips as you tried to form words.
You would choke on them as well as a lungfull of the lagoon’s foul waters. Tinuke had jumped from the Eko bridge and you had fallen in love and after her.
Still,Tinuke would die, drowning.Deadweight in your arms. You would drown too, but first in a flood of your emotions.


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