Pomme Terre (Part 3, page 2 of 4)


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Part 3

A lot had happened. I moved to another town away from mom. I lived on my own, with much freedom. Got in and out of relationships. Got in and out of trouble. Picked up smoking, picked up the love for mother nature, among other things.

I can feel the back of my shirt drying up. The sweat soaked all the way through my sports bra. With my thumb, I flicked the ash from the cigarette , took another drag and continued people watching.

"Kissing you is like eating an ashtray" my ex had complained.

Clang- claaang- clang*

I turned to the source of the noise and saw an elderly man nearby. He just came out of the mart with way too much stuff in his hands. It was a 'no plastic bag day'. And the things he bought came crashing down like an avalanche.

Should I help? I snuffed out the remaining of the cigarette. As I was making my way to him, another man dashed out from the gym entrance and reached the uncle with a few big strides. I had seen him before, in the gym.

Pleasant face, not exactly pretty boy, but well-toned body. Not those big and scary muscles, just trimmed and sculpted the way I like it. I noticed he used to work out alone, with his own earphones stuck in his ears, although the gym blared its loud music.

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