Camila

 

 

 

Mr. Mayes, the manager looks twice older than his age of forty-five. Around three hundred pounds of six-footer bald head and a goatee man. I’ve never seen him smile. All he does every day is to bark at everyone. I wonder what he’s carrying on his shoulder that he forgets to even realize how beautiful life is.

Speaking of beautiful, regardless of what happened days ago, I learn how to appreciate the beauty of life—that life is not perfect, life doesn’t always go like how we want it to be—it’s like a road, it has many bends, ups, and downs. And that’s its beauty.

Pyke stops bugging me. I...