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The twinkle in her eye. A total cliche it was. But it was the only memory I held onto of her after she left this world suddenly on that bus ride. She was the only one who died on that bus. It made me question ideas of fate and destiny for a few fleeting moments. Sense came rushing back after. There had to be some logic to it. I didn’t lose her because of fate. She was a wonderful soul, loved by all. She spent her short life well. I wanted to weep just imagining the void she has left. But my mother, a logical woman, comforted me. She was convinced that good people died early in life and us oldies lived longer only cause we were evil inside. Our evilness would corrupt the world as the good continued to leave it. I was flummoxed. It made no sense. I asked her about the good and evil balance that she vouched for. If the good kept dying early, then there was sure to be an imbalance. She rejected this logic of mine. Said this is how it was. I didn’t believe her. Still don’t. But could one ever rationalise the death of a loved one? Probably not. Yet, I needed answers to a few troubling questions. Why only her? Why before I told her how I feel about her? Why now when we were this close?

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