TO MY MOTHER…

King kept staring at his wristwatch impatiently while he shook his legs in the car.

“How long before we reach there?!” He snapped at the driver.

“We are almost there, sir,” the man said.

“Hurry up! Even a snail is faster than you, damn it,” he hissed and look out of the window.

“And don’t drive me to my death too,” he snorted when the man suddenly increased the pace of the car.

As soon as the car stopped in front of the art gallery, he did not even wait for the driver to pull properly before he jumped down and then hurried to the building.

He moved over to the exhibition hall that was just behind the main gallery, and when he got to the entrance, he breathed out, maintained his composure, and then walked in.

The hall was silent as everyone was engrossed by the paintings they were looking at but when some of them noticed him, they bowed and he reciprocated.

He looked around for Payton for a while before his eyes settled on the woman who wore a white dress and then moved over to her wi