After Grad

JANUARY SECOND CREPT into Aramide’s room with its early morning haze. The Harmattan had smothered the whole of Lagos as at mid-December, even crossing the boarder of a brand New Year. Aramide was packing up, but it had nothing to do with the coldness of the atmosphere she tried to warm up beneath her old, fluffy sweater. Neither did it have anything to do with the inescapable dust across her mini-flat. Although, she secretly wished she had the superpower to twist the mechanism of the annoyingly dry weather.