He was a father
A husband, an uncle
He was on his way to his wife’s office
‘I will be there in a twinkling x,’ he texted her
In a twinkling, that’s all it took for his body to be charred by the flames
Now he’s up there, looking down on us with a twinkle in his eye,
‘Forget me not,’ he pleads.
She was a daughter
A sister, a niece
She was heading home from school
She waved her friends goodbye, ‘see you tomorrow,’ she said
Tomorrow found her lifeless body sprawled across the forecourt of the burnt-out petrol station
Now she lives in eternity, somewhere beyond the clouds
‘Forget me not,’ she asks.
She was a mother
A wife, an auntie
She was going home after a routine prenatal check-up at the clinic
‘We’ll be off in a few minutes,’ she muttered to herself as she gently rubbed her belly
A few minutes, that’s how long it took for the van to fill with floodwater, drowning her and the unborn baby
Now her tears flood the heavens
‘Forget me not,’ she cries.
