I’ve learned to greet my team members with a simple “Good morning”. Unlike Jen’s natural beauty, my smile is still strained and the corners still downturned like a pouty model kitteh with an aloof attitude. For the most part of my life, I hardly smile and only do so because of social norms to keep the mask of friendliness and the air of sweetness. And that’s how I keep the corners of my eyes from wrinkling.
As such, I was chatting with Hoan for a few minutes at his desk about the four of us burying Pimon the parakeet yesterday: Maw had carefully wrapped her beloved pet in a nice paper towel, Paw handled the shovel and dug the hole, the boy bent over to place the dead bird into the soil and I was the only one crying out my red eyes.
Then at around 9:20am or so, Mike gentle tapped my right shoulder as he gracefully walk away towards his desk. I looked quickly to my left. That’s how unique the the bald guy is: He should be nominated Mr. Congeniality. I thought nothing of his action, except continue babbling to Hoan. I must be dumb for some reason or desensitized from pain as told by me two days ago while walking under the friggin’ sun with Mike. I tried not to look his way but noticed John nearby to my right.
So that’s how people are: existing for a moment as fetuses in this universe, an egg and passing by other sailing ships on the wide open ocean as seafarers of ancient Greek – an old soul according to his friends of 1,000 years or so and a warrior, too, fighting reptoids in the boy’s dreams as told last night during dinner after the burial of Pimon the parakeet.
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