"You turned out to be more than a blessing."
A man with endless charms and captivating skills pursues the woman of his dreams. Almost everyday, he buys her flowers at a particular flower shop. But as time goes on, what if he falls in love with the f...
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My heart's pace was starting to get intense, if that was the right word to say. Honestly, I didn't know what I was feeling at the moment because everything else seemed so blurred due to these throbbing, repeatitive thoughts in my mind. I'd had them since that very afternoon where I intentionally (or I honestly didn't know) poured the hot, brewed coffee on the waitress' shirt. I didn't just feel the plain guilt wherein everyone will normally feel after they'd done something horrible, but the lingeringremorse was burning horrendously inside me.
Although my sister was at home which made me feel like I had someone to constantly entertain, I just couldn't brush the thought off my mind. My dog Randolf was also with me for like all the time, cuddling and playing; however, I could definitely inhale the strong breeze of consequence. Why did I have to do that? That was so rude of me! I wasn't supposed to abruptly and intentionally waste a drink by splashing it unto someone, let alone walking away from it without even apologizing.
Randolf, who was adorably snuggled next to me, lightly whined as he adjusted his position much closer to where I was. He was my two-year old golden retriever which I adopted from a shelter when I had my trip to San Fransico. He was abandoned at a very young age, so of course I didn't ever want him to grow old without feeling loved. I was glad that he was one of the few left in that lonely shelter. At that same day, many people came to adopt their own, too.
"Biddy buddy boy." He wagged his tail and stuck his tongue out, glimpsing at me for a couple times. "You're the good-est boy, you know that Dolf?"
Yet I knew I had struggles at the back of mind, I thought to myself that at least it didn't add up to any of my problems. Because to be honest, I had no real worries about my job since I decided to go for architecture and graduated in that course at California State University. After that, I felt like I didn't have to follow the path of the true meaning of being an architect, rather I became an "art prostitute" for a little while until I gained enough money to pursue dancing.
Yeah, I once considered myself a prostitute in the arts field. Like, I received money offered by people who wanted me to draw or paint a piece of art for them. That was how simple it was: gave them the finished piece on a canvas, and then money was on my hands. It wasn't like I completely faked myself, in fact I loved art in any form, just that I had more things to accomplish in life other than just creating designs of a building, and showing it to engineers. I will most probably continue it someday though.
Just then, the doorbell rang and Randolf immediately jumped out of my arms and anticipated for whoever was outside the house.
"Rain, it's us!" I heard mom call. And sure enough, Randolf, upon hearing the voice, wagged his tail as he kept on making random jumps all over the place. I instantly walked to the entrance and opened the door, revealing mom and dad.
I hugged both of them. "Hey, how are you doing? Both of you?" I asked. Being away from them was a little hard for me when I first moved out, but now that it'd been for years of not seeing them constantly, I was getting used to it. Although the distance between Sacramento and Los Angeles was approximately a 5-hour drive, I still couldn't get to visit them often since I had my own things to take care of.
