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A person is like a puzzle that you put together, before you were born, you're given all the pieces. You don't know you have them but, they've been given to you. As you grow older, it has been your task to put them all together. That's how life is, putting the right pieces in the right places. It's as simple as that.
"Nobody gave me any pieces." Gerimo said into the speaker.
"Yes, they did. You just didn't know it, you have all the pieces." the speaker replied.
"I see." Gerimo said, adjusting his bifocals as he sip his tea.
"It's your responsibility to find out where each one goes." the speaker voice's started to slur a bit.
Gerimo is not one to store leftovers and more so to just nibble a bit on his food. But this one is like rare chocolate or fine wine that he wants to savor every taste. Besides it has been so long that he had good company who not only look good but he was sure would taste good. No seasoning added, he was sure this one has a distinct and unique taste he would
The most beautiful thing she had ever since is a man surrounded by roses, he was bent over a red rose, a brush in hand and a palette, and the peculiar thing about it was he was not at his canvas capturing a lovely subject but was painting the rose itself. She watched him awhile, not wanting to disturb a master at work. In this kind of place, she never thought she would find an angel. The man himself is a subject to behold.
His lips were pursed in deep concentration, like it was the most crucial and delicate thing he must accomplish, all the noise and chaos surrounding him didn't seem to faze him, nor did he notice that a woman was watching him.
She heard about him, a most peculiar case. He is close to getting out of this place. She was a little sad to see such a handsome specimen of a man leave this place while she just got there.
When he was done, he looked up and smiled at her. She can see that