M. Sydnor Jr.



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There is no escaping the inevitable. Age comes for us all. In the shape of fruition or the form of darkness. Shala woke up to darkness. Thirty years came too fast, she wasn’t ready, she wasn’t prepared, and life was winning. She didn’t want to celebrate or party but everyone around her wanted to revel. Joy surrounded her but she saw thirty as the murderer of her youth. It was hard to accept.
The eve of her thirtieth year was a blur, but a beautiful distortion that eventually consumed her reality. It wasn’t the birthday that had her feeling good, it was the stranger. And that beautiful stranger was more important than the party. More important than the stresses of her evil neighbors and their wicked pets. More important than thirty. But was this strange love strong enough to forget about the missing boyfriend?


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