Tuppence Van Harn

An Inherent Similarity Between Persons or Things Tuppence Van Harn

Sometimes you have to be middle-aged to come of age. The world ended the day Kandi turned 40. Her life became the ultimate cliché: cubicle dweller, douche of an ex-husband, no friends, and three times as many cats as her lease allowed. About the only thing that kept her from being a punchline to a really bad joke was the fact she had just won the lottery and had 25 million reasons to ensure she would be having the last laugh. Kandi may have stopped the cliché, but she hadn't stopped her really crappy luck. Nothing ever ended up as she expected and winning the lottery wasn't going to be any different. The only thing she had going for her was finally, for the first time in forty years, she made her own choices. Every decision, every person, every place, everything. And because it was all her and only her, rather quirky patterns started to emerge. Creepy coincidences. Overlapping fates. Randomness became predictability. Her affinity for certain objects would attract people with those same natural affinities. And those inherent similarities in another person or another thing would be what she needed to finally see life for what it was, and the very reason she would finally find herself.