Okay. What if all this was a dream? And it never happened because it can’t. Heaven is not real. Science, according to Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution, has proven how everything came to be. Dad always said to me when I was little, “nothing exists after this life.” “Then live a little. Try new things like go to church, study the Bible because what happens when your ‘what ifs become a reality? What happens if everything you believe has always been a lie?” That is impossible. Science is factual. “What if facts are not always accurate. What then?”

It is a busy morning in downtown Brooklyn. A few inches from the pedestrian light birds warble in the dead tree branches. The floors are still wet from morning dew while the streets are quiet, with a long line of people standing in front of a Baptist church. At the busy intersection of Tompkins street, a young white man with a curly mustache in a cotton jacket, and a knapsack on his right shoulder waits for the traffic light to turn green. He drums his feet on the concrete pedestrian pathway, over and over again like the hands of a clock, tick-tocks. He has one hand in his pocket, while his other hand pulls his knapsack forward on his shoulder—the man’s shiny grey pants flap in the wind to the beat of his feet. Standing a few inches from the traffic light, he squints his eyes under the morning sun, while looking at the pedestrian light to turn white.

            Delicate bleeding of snowflakes on my beanie as death draws near to me. Time explosion at this moment I crave to pour my heart to you before it ticks away. But the words you gently ruffle into my confession steal the night I have left to spend out in the world:

She clicks on the link below the text and it directs her to a news report about the labor market and the increase in road side killings on major city roads—a girl was killed when she crossed to catch the public transport bus. It could be her or anyone who still lives there. She closes it and puts the phone back in her pocket. Her mind wanders back to her family in Lagos city. There is something in the stillness of the crystal-clear waters that tempers the feeling of loss. It feels like magic to be at peace with herself.

A proposal happening on the other end of the patio catches his attention. He watches a man in a yellow polo shirt get down on one knee in front of his girlfriend who is chewing a mouth full of pancake and maple syrup with hollowed dimples stamped on her face. The giggling young woman bops her head as the man slips a ring on her finger. She leans forward to hug her fiancé from the chair like her butt is stuck to the metal chair. They kiss like the uncorking of a wine bottle until the woman chokes.