08 Chance

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I am a fool with a heart but no brains, and you are a fool with brains but no heart; and we're both unhappy, and we both suffer.

Fyodor Dostoyevsky

[credits to musexoxo for helping me choose the cat name]

"We're all foolish, Qutub, don't you think? Chasing distant stars and pivoting around our desires until either they're ashen or we are, but the chase never ends-- we're never contented." He runs his finger through his cat's gray fur and he purrs, stretching on his lap. Mikael smiles. "Tell me why is it so, boy?"

Qutub meows and rubs his head against Mikael's thigh, licking his paw. Mikael continues to pet him.

"We never live fully-- we're
half to live and half to weep. Because half of our wishes are fulfilled and we live them, and the other half are only desired and we weep them. After all, not all of our wishes can be met-- this world is no heaven."

The first rays of the sun kisses horizon and the sky starts coloring up, from jaded orange to brilliant blue, the hues blending like paint on an artist's pallette. He watches the magnificence of his Creator unfold, admiring the beauty in his art, finding himself not alone but his Lord closer to him.

"Why?" he whispers into the air, then repeats his question, "Why?"

Mikael swallows as he stares up to the sky, sitting in the backyard of his house. The weather is thankfully calm, although cool, but he isn't bothered by it.

"I'm not complaining," he speaks, imagining himself to be talking to God. "I'm only wondering: what's happening to my life? I need guidance; I feel lost."

He looks down at Qutub again and scratches his head. "With Banafsha and Hurairah," he bites his lower lip before releasing it, "how do I break one in the process of saving another? How do I give Banafsha her freedom when the cost of it is Hurairah's promise? I can't choose one over another." He sighs and covers his face with both hands, mumbling to himself, "What test am I put me in?"

"Whatever it is, I'm sure you can navigate through it."

He turns around, startled, and finds Larmina walking towards him. She smiles and holds out a mug to him.

"Your coffee."

He feels grateful for his sister to be living next door to him, but having her work herself for him like this so often makes him feel guilty. Maybe when her own child comes to this world, they might not be able to spend as much time together. Maybe that's why she wanted him to get married to share his joy and sorrows with someone. He feels a fear gnaw at his heart at the chaos the revelation of the truth might create.

Mikael smiles back at her and takes the mug from her. "Thank you, but you shouldn't have troubled yourself."

"It's nothing." She pulls a chair closer to his and sits down. "So, you want to talk about whatever is bothering you?"

Your husband, my wife. He thinks and gazes at her, her soft brown eyes-- maybe a shade lighter than Banafsha's-- awaiting his response patiently. Her eyes always put him ill at ease because of their uncanny resemblance to their father's, just like his resemble their mother's. But where Idris Khalil has sharpness to his irises, cutting like unsheathed daggers that stabs one only by looking at them, Larmina doesn't, having blurred and blended outlines to her gaze instead. Yet, Mikael always finds it hard to escape her stare.

"Nah, you don't worry about it." He shrugs it off and turns towards the sky again. "I was just admiring the sunrise."

"It's too early to lie, brother."

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