There is no sadder moment than a late Sunday afternoon; it brings me stale memories of years back; little kid holding his aunt's hand in a fervent attempt to stop time, to seize that very moment in an endless interval.
The blazing heat dying to the warmth of a young evening; bus roaring its way through the city I always loved with every fiber of my very self and yet, as it devoured the melting pavement under its heavy tires I felt the end draw near and blinking neon lights lost their meaning in the gloominess that hijacked my soul.
Looking back it's been a lifetime; breathless moments abounded and the flashbacks keep beaming on the whirling of my mind. Sunday afternoon still makes me shiver as I almost reach the finish line and for a moment I dream of rain and forests and prairies, the boy within me lost in his mischief.
The blazing heat dying to the warmth of a young evening; bus roaring its way through the city I always loved with every fiber of my very self and yet, as it devoured the melting pavement under its heavy tires I felt the end draw near and blinking neon lights lost their meaning in the gloominess that hijacked my soul.
Looking back it's been a lifetime; breathless moments abounded and the flashbacks keep beaming on the whirling of my mind. Sunday afternoon still makes me shiver as I almost reach the finish line and for a moment I dream of rain and forests and prairies, the boy within me lost in his mischief.
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