WRITE A STORY ABOUT A PICTURE
A STORY ABOUT A PICTURE
Rain drops falling from the fuzzy gray cloud landed on my leather jacket, and the droplet spread into the small ball-like droplets as they fell off. It was cold and foggy, and for that reason I could barely see the kids playing in the forecourt just across the street. Between their smiley faces and my pale frozen face, I could see their mothers looking at them with pleasure and satisfaction as they played. I wished my mom was looking at me the same way when I was playing.
The door opened as the bus stopped, I chose a seat near the window and gave a last glance to those playful children who had captured my both physical and emotional attentional. On the same position at the window, I saw an old lady carrying a big heavy bag from how she was strenuously strolling. I kept my eyes fixed upon her, as my freezing hands started shivering. My skin began to turn pale as if my blood had turned blue. I couldn’t feel hands anymore; it was as if blood had stopped flowing in the blood vessels within my body. The journey appeared infinite, but I had no better option than to remain seated. I leaned my head against the window in boredom, my eyebrows touched the window, and I noticed how fast the bus was moving. The Trees appeared gray, and road white stripes appeared to be melded.
The Bus stopped; I stepped out in the reality only to realize it was almost 7 pm. Got home. My father was watching Television; I could see the ash tray full of smoked cigarettes next to him. I went to the kitchen, and the only thing I could see were empty wine bottles left on the table surrounded by the crumbs of bread. Bug hump on the top of the wine bottle; I ogled at my father sitting in the dark room watching Television and smoking alone on the couch.
The clock was ticking, and it was almost 12 pm, so it was time to go to work, and I had to step in the darkness. The Only thing I could see were the different colors of lights from disco lights in the darkness. The music was extremely loud, almost 150 decibels. I could smell cigarette smoke burning from every corner of the club and Orders were coming too fast than I could handle but, I had to keep up with the pace. A weird feeling of someone looking at me from the right corner of the lounge he was seated came over me. He came closer and asked me if I could go with him tonight, I ignored him and didn’t give a response. The stranger offered me drinks and generously he paid for them on my behalf until I passed out. I don’t remember what happened next because I got so drunk.
The Next morning I woke up in a strange place with the strange guy next to me. I don’t know how I got there and why I allowed myself to drink so. I had been frustrated during that week from various life experiences like missing my mother and so I had been stressed, and excessive drinking was my consolation. I got up lucky enough the stranger was too drank as well to take advantage of me, and I left to continue facing light realities and promised myself not to allow excessive drinking again.
In conclusion life is like a rose, its stem is the journey that we take in life, and its thorns are obstacles that we overcome, but in the end we vision flowered path. We can overcome our struggles because life gives us second chances to right our wrongs as we learn from the careless choices we make.
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