By the time the entering the house ritual is done most of the faff has gone. Ask me about it some other time. I do love driving at night in this city, its beautiful and I rarely ever have to get out of fifth.

The problem with signs is, how do you know it IS a sign and isn’t wishful thinking? What if fairytales ARE true, what if you DO just know, and what if you are never sure of the what ifs?

All I can do is gather every scrap of zen I can lay my hands on, rummage though the pockets of the thrice-washed pants, in the hope that there’s something extra there – every penny helps, right? Then mix it up in a mojito, knock it down and pray it conjures up every last atom of faith left in my body and my life, every story of fate and destiny, good and bad, every iota of hope and positive thinking, close my eyes and just hold on. After all, the thing with destiny is that it always works out happy and fulfilling in the end, right?

And you know, this time it might just work. At least in terms of trauma and drama free life.

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