The Greek philosopher Plato said, "Music is a moral law. It gives soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination, and charm and gaiety to life and to everything."
Vhea, an eighteen-year-old city girl, had an inkling that partneri...
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0ctober 29, 2018 Monday, 03:27 PM
They all died.
Cold air was adventuring all through out my body as if they're pieces of metal and I was a big freestanding magnet who willingly welcomed their contiguity.
While nourishing the parched vibe place, my sight was locked on the three abreast graves. My cheeks welcomed my tears as it started falling.
It was spilling as if it's Matamis' Falls' water who continuously runs until it finally slumped on the ground.
Like the waterfalls, tears were exiting from my woeful eyes as if it has no conclusion--if I were to relate it on a business deal. No finish line--if I were to relate it on a car's race. No finale--if I were to relate it with a TV drama series.
My tears seemed to go on, as if it would never end. No endings, just as I stretched my neck upwards on Matamis' night's no-ending full-of-stars sky.
Suddenly, I found myself panting for breath and my nose started itching as if I had traveled back in time to the moment when I first entered Ryan's Bookstore, and smelled the distinct scent of newly and tanned books.
Years already passed. And all those past years were both the happiest and saddest years of my twenty-five years of existence.
There's always "buts" attached to everything. And as for now that I'm currently exterioring my emotions, my biggest "but" is when I felt the soft, hot palm that caressed my hand.
The person cinched my hand tightly, which helps me to unwind. We hugged each other.
"Thank you for everything, Ate," my mouth emotionally murmured after our body touched.
