Anansi took his index finger and middle finger of one hand, placed one finger under each eye and pressed down, pulling his lower eyelids down to widen his eyes. “What we see doesn’t mean it exists. Plenty of people see things that do not exist, and many do not see what does exist.
You are lacking a destiny. But your story is unbreakably tied to another’s. Her destiny demands you be part of hers. So, you are a loose thread, a dangling sentence, a torn page. I like such things, because such things can always be repaired. They can be finished.” Anansi turned back to the road and tugged gently on his mule. “Ah, here we are. There is a story here.”
David looked ahead as he saw the door to one of the flats open. Four women of different ages stepped out, chattering amongst one another. They w
