Hours to Spare

This would be the genesis of my blogging via iPhone.

Months back, I used to go to the West Coast to breathe in fresh, salty breeze. Blessed enough, my system calls me to bed, but my being closet-adventurous-kid stands in the way.

My forever soul buddy – my sister and I agreed to take an afternoon stroll in a sports complex. In one way or another, we moved from there to the baywalk. And I had to say, we walked ourselves with the eerie feeling of welcoming dusk and fear of the unknown.

Upon reaching our destination, beach-goers were dispersed in what seemed to be an endless vertical slope. Most of the benches were occupied and only two or less were spared. So what now? We gasped.

The inevitability of dealing with all kinds of people was slowly sinking in. Few rude men alight the way so we had no choice but to take steps faster than usual…

Yes, there…until we reached this almost empty space and took photographs.

Later that night, we arrived at home and brushed the mimicking disappointment with brand new photos in our storage.

I guess, we all deserve hours to spare.

💌,

SAM

Author: samofguzman

A writer neither writes every day nor every other day; a writer writes on a day beyond his control.

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