five thirty at the west coast of the city

quarter towards five

The tractable chairs which looked like rusting oaks finally rested on top of the obsolete tables in an inverted innuendo. It probably took some while after the bakery got raided with a plethora of grannies and crews- again. So having to encounter a hail of men revolving around the counter was such a horror.

Nevertheless, I'm actually delighted- the additional fee a while ago would probably bring me home a couple pastries and breaded candies to which Gina loves. So then I grabbed a bagel, a cinnamon muffin, and a cup of iced coffee, scanned their tags on the machine and smacking them all right through the seams of my bag like a food loot.

Taking off the week-fully unwashed apron that looked soaked in flour and blueberries together with the name pin sticking on the right part of my stained white shirt, I puffed a sigh and let out a laugh. Never in my life have I ever felt as exhausted as I do now. This- is a disaster, an inorganic one.

I slid the apron on the wooden rack of budget pinafores and made my way out of the suffocating storage room. I blandly took my phone off of the empty seat under the shelf of the counter with the dirtied white ear sets plugged unto it- blasting random audios from its dangling speakers that's been rolling on for more than couple of hours now. Situating it on my ear buds, my spine started reverberating crispy frictions. Flamin Hot Cheetos will always make the orange strokes of the noon more napalm. 

Always.

I tossed the bag, swinging it swiftly right to the back of my torso and took one last swipe on the counter before blazing off with feeble steps toward the entrance of the store where people exit the same way around.

The doorbell chimed just as hazy as it always did when I opened the door and left it oozing air as I got out and closed. The atmosphere outside the bakery was indeed more soothing than it was on the inside. The trees deflected bright oranges and plum yellows- just like how the wind blew faux cold breezes as it tackled my face like warm pantones.

My eyes squinted as dusty pollen went inside my left eye, I obnoxiously rubbed the area and subsequently made its way to be itch-free. I fished inside my pocket and got the keys, torridly popping my way inside the door's lock, keeping it firm before pulling off. As I noticed the door already secured, I placed the keys back to its position before hastily moving away past the store. I strode tightly to my uncle's usurp bicycle, took off the parking lot and boosted out of the area. 

The road today never felt as calming as it did now. Few cars passed the empty street and few people could be seen on sight. This day is so far going through a whole new route- everything doesn't seem to be as normal as usual. Though I don't mind it. Not at all.

Passing a count of light posts, garages, boutiques, and marts. The disturbing thought came ricocheting to my senses yet again. I always pinned this wish marked on my head- to have a time let alone for myself in a park nearby the west coast of the city. 

I think it's about time to favor myself for my personal request. It's a Friday, I got no job scheduled for tomorrow. Plus, Gina won't probably be mad at me knowing I'd bring her home tad goods she always bugged me about since the day I entered the bakery.

So I scooted my way hastily to get to the park as soon as possible. The sun was setting slower than usual and it surprisingly oozes more sunshine than most days. Damn, today- it is such a lucky day. 

The park was a block away so I torridly pulled off the breaks and hopped my way out of the seat. The sun was on a performance trying to glow on its brightest radiance. The view was intensely serene. You could even properly witness the flock of gulls flying through the canvas of the orange napalm sky. And the sea trying to make amends with the sun as if they're reconciling upon each other's beauty.