❝In which a celebrity dials a random number in hope of finding one last thing to make him smile before he commits suicide at the end of the month.❞
"I'm going to commit suicide in one months time."
"I think you have the wrong number."
"It can't be t...
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Expect the unexpected.
It was the kind of phrase that Lewis lived by. Of course, it hadn't always been that way but somehow having your whole life stripped away from you does that to a person. He found that the first thing he did when he woke up every morning was predict, making a mental list of all the horrible things that could possibly happen that day. It was the only thing he could do. He had to preserve what little he had left. For him, the little remnant of happiness was embodied in a once incredibly bubbly blonde woman who had been reduced to a wheelchair.
Waking up that morning, he had done his usual routine of speculation before carrying his wife downstairs for breakfast. He had considered every possible option as to what could go wrong.
The two people standing on his doorstep told him otherwise.
Lewis stood; frozen. Shock had taken a chisel and carved him into a statue.
Expect the unexpected.
Expect the unexpected.
Expect the reason that your life is crumbling to pieces to appear on your doorstep.
