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    How Not to Die Alone
    How Not to Die Alone
    How Not to Die Alone
    Ebook68 pages59 minutes

    How Not to Die Alone

    By Tolulope Olafisoye

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    About this ebook

    The bachelors of 34th lane were living up the life and they were comfortable with it. That was until one of the gang got married and the alarm started to go off in their heads. With pride and possibly their whole life at stake, they decide to have a bet; one year to find that special someone and get married.
    How far will they go? Who will they meet? Dive into the exciting world of these four, in their search for love, life and a lot of laughs.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTolulope Olafisoye
    Release dateOct 5, 2020
    ISBN9781005237264
    How Not to Die Alone
    Author

    Tolulope Olafisoye

    Tolulope Olafisoye is a Law student at the University of Ilorin, Kwara State, Nigeria. He is a writer and the author of the novel "The William Castagnoli Chronicles". An avid reader, Tolulope writes as he speaks; free and warmly with a touch of comedy. His works focus on young adults learning how the world works. Tolulope writes as though life is a comic book, or a blockbuster movie giving his readers doses of fun and laughter as they journey through his world. He has written many short stories as well as poems which have featured on different social media platforms and online magazines.

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      Book preview

      How Not to Die Alone - Tolulope Olafisoye

      HOW NOT TO DIE ALONE

      TOLULOPE OLAFISOYE

      How Not to Die Alone

      © 2020 by Tolulope Olafisoye.

      All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be used or reproduced, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any way by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopy, recording or otherwise without written or prior permission of the author except in the case of reprints in the context of reviews.

      December

      It was one of those days.

      Jay sat across the window of the apartment. One of his legs sat outside the window, like how he was only half in the conversation we were having. He had a bottle of Bud Light in hand, half-empty but soon to be fully drained. Jay preferred to sit as far away from the center of the room whenever we were having one of these. He figured if it got far too boring, he could just get out and go do something more fun.

      Dan was in the opposite direction, lying in the camp bed we had placed closer to the door in case anyone (meaning JAY) were to come back too drunk and wouldn't make it to the couch or room before passing out. When Jay wasn't passing out smelling like booze and prostitution on the camp bed, Dan was lounging on it. He loved lying down and spent most of the day doing just that. As soon as he got off work, he'd crash right into the bed and only get up to cook and eat. Usually not in that order. The bed had become his personal space. He even added some particularly convenient features like a fan, a holster for his beer (he drank quite a bit himself), and a bowl to hold his food.

      On any normal day, if you walked into the apartment, he'd be the first person you'd meet but probably not the first to greet you. Chances were he wouldn't greet you at all.

      Kev stood at the west end, near the kitchen. He was in his tank tops and held a basketball in hand. He was on his way to practice so he probably wanted us to conclude this as quickly as possible. He tossed the ball in the air a few times while we talked. For all I knew, he probably spent more time on the court than he did at work. And for the few minutes when he was in neither place, he added a few hoops and baskets around the apartment. He was always throwing something somewhere. It didn't bother us much since we could get rid of the trash by daring him to score from wherever we were.

      I sat on the couch near the east end of the room. I held a book in my hand and a laptop opened in front of me. Music played from the system directly to my ears thanks to the headphones I had on. The guys had always insisted I take it off when we wanted to talk but I assured them I was very capable of multitasking. And sure I had to listen to three or four things at the same time but that was a strain me and my brain were ready to take. My leg was dangling outside the couch, threatening to fall off. It was a tad frustrating that we had searched for the longest one just so I would fit in it and a month later it had either shrunk or I had grown far too long for it. Neither of which seems too promising. I flipped a page in the book I had in hand while the rest bickered over whether or not we needed a separate room for drinks.

      We had been friends for half a decade now. We met way back in college and stuck together since. I met Dan through his roommate; Kay, who was my course mate at the time. Kev and I happened upon each other during a particularly funny water shortage. As for Jay, we had met shortly after he stole a certain beauty from me. Years later, we lived together in a tricked out three-bedroom apartment in the western part of the city.

      Although it had three bedrooms, we only ever used two. The last one was left for dust, cobwebs, cardboard boxes, and the many unfinished works of W. C. Castagnoli.

      Right now, we were arguing on if it would be a good idea to convert it into a cold room so our drinks would always be room temperature; Cold room temperature.

      Before the conversation had diverted into its current beverage oriented point, it had been about a particularly sensitive subject we had put off for a month. Much of it had started at our friend, Douglas, wedding nearly two months before. Doug was getting married to sweetheart Ada who he had

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