Springtime Blooms and Echos

A New Day, Same Problems

I don't think we're responsible, even as adults. Our minds are childish, and we resort to childish things. Then again, it's mostly Olive's fault that we got here. 

The market had its usual hustle and bustle; the swarms of people went in and out of it. The food vendors were quite busy, and the produce were always fresh. The fish were caught this morning, and all of these odd boutiques would settle there. Most people came from a Sunday's prayer as there were many temples nearby. The roads were cracked and eroded just like the old people. It seems like they dedicated their whole lives to this market. We felt like we were invading.

We casted those thoughts away as we really were in need of some food.  I lost Olive so many times; in fact, that's all you need to know. This situation IS TOTALLY about Olive. I can't believe them. They would run around like a child; I, of course, let them off.

They hung out with this old friend named Florian. I let them off and continued with these horrid errands. I went back into the sea of freshly baked goods, the new produce, and old men and young boys yelling out for the new shipments. It was so deafening; after staying in that abundant sea, I zoned out all of the noise and carried on. I picked out the usual groceries and also got a little treat for myself and Olive.

 The sky was orange and there was only a small bit of the sun left when I was finished with the errands. I walked home; the marketplace was quieter as most street venders started taking down their shops and the night venders started setting up theirs. The road was bumpy; little stones sometimes got into my shoe which was very hindering when it came to walking. The heavy bags were sagging on my arm; the weight was slowing me down. 

I'm so glad that I got home before nightfall. The sun was already putting itself to sleep; the sky was half dark with orangey hues. The air was cold which meant it was a perfect time to cook. I set down my groceries and started making some soup and opened the freshly steaming hot rice that I bought from earlier. Olive was quite tired when they got here; they probably played around too much— such a child. 

Good night me, Good night Olive. What peaceful lives we live.