I have lost count of the times I have tapped the steering wheel. My phone buzzes. For a second I weigh whether to pick it or not. What the heck, I can’t think straight when it comes to her.

Kevin, where are you? I really need to get out of here,” goes Adele’s frail voice.

“I’ll be there in a few. Just hold on.”

“Okay. Hurry up.”



The dial on your watch reads 2.01pm. Damn! You curse loudly. It’s one of those boring Saturdays. The last couple of weeks have been intense at work to the point you hardly went out. You get off the bed and walk towards your living room, something in the bathroom catches your eye. You retrace your steps only to find that it was just your reflection in the mirror. The image on the mirror looks like the knock-off version of you. Your waistline is bulging and your hair looks like a shrub. This reminds you of one of the New Year resolutions in which you intended to hit the gym five times week yet can’t recall the last time you visited one.