I love my Cafe Mocha. I love sitting in a corner of Starbucks, facing the window and looking at the roads, people and buildings. I like the stories which they tell. One of these stories then reminds me of my own. It takes me to my small town where I grew up.
There I use to stand in my room's window and tell the road outside, that I would travel, I would travel one day.
I am glad I kept the promise and I did travel, it's just that I don't get to share the story now with it. It's been a very long time since I went back home. When hours rolled into days, days into week, week into months and months into years, I did not realize. Yet every day here seems like a long day. What an Irony!
There I use to stand in my room's window and tell the road outside, that I would travel, I would travel one day.
I am glad I kept the promise and I did travel, it's just that I don't get to share the story now with it. It's been a very long time since I went back home. When hours rolled into days, days into week, week into months and months into years, I did not realize. Yet every day here seems like a long day. What an Irony!
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