When I Met You

chapter five

As I walk my way out of the Pedant building, the folder clasp between my hand, I didn't feel like going home yet because I was afraid that if I stayed somewhere all by myself, I would drown in my own thoughts—over deliberating everything that Mr. McCartney said. I didn't notice that I was already standing in front of my car door when a man who was riding a bike passed by on the other side. I must have spaced out or something.

Fumbling the keys inside my shoulder bag, I heard a bell sound and I looked to see where it came from. Behind me was a bakery with a small dine in area inside, almost looking like a café shop. I didn't hesitate to go in, especially when my stomach suddenly grumbled in hunger. Putting the folder inside my bag, I walked inside, immediately filling up my nostrils with fresh bakery air, it smelled like butter and sugar. The temperature feels warmer, compare outside which made me feel more at ease.

As I went inside, the first thing that I immediately saw was a Blueberry Cheesecake and a Chocolate Chip Walnut Cookies. My mouth felt like watering with all the food that I was seeing. The area was full of colors and everything just felt so light and calming. This was the best place to re-evaluate all that just happened.

There was an empty table with cushion seats near the entrance door so I made my way there, putting my tray of cookies and cheesecake down with gentleness. I grabbed my bag and took the folder out, opening it as scattered pieces of paper came to view. I was sure that I passed this papers neatly, but since it was probably passed down a couple of times for reviews and evaluations, it became more crumpled. I didn't mind though. It only meant that my work was acknowledged and I guess that's what really matters.

I read some of the notes that I wrote and I couldn't help but feel anxious about it. I was expecting that one of these would be a headstart but as I read on, there weren't any ideas popping in my mind. It was frustrating that I couldn't think of something to write. The deadline feels like it could occur any moment and I couldn't help but feel the urge to begin the story as soon as I can. A writer's block is definitely the last thing I need for this.

When it was getting dark, feeling like I've stayed there for hours, I was satisfied with what I ate, mentally putting this bakery as my top 3 favorite shop of all time. The cookies were crispy on the outside but at the same time, chewy and soft on the inside. It was like the chocolate was melting inside your mouth andthe crispy walnut became a good contrast. The cheesecake was divine. I couldn't even fathom what was in there, every bite was sensational. Before leaving the store, I gathered all my things and made sure that I got every paper back in the folder.

I was pondering for hours on how to start my story. There were a few ideas that seemed to spark up, I would scribble a few ideas down on my journal but in the middle of jutting down some things, I would suddenly stop, not being able to finish the story or even just the plot. It was really frustrating. In the end, I couldn't find something good which made me think to just throw it all away. It was no use, these ideas only made my mind a mess. On the way back to my apartment, the thought of throwing the folder was all I could think of, especially when I took a turn at the other side of the hall when I reached to my floor. The other side of the hall was where the garbage room was located, I've never been more tempted to go inside, to open the garbage chute door and to throw the folder away, leading it all the way down to the garbage truck, forever out of my sight. I wasn't probably thinking straight at the very moment which made me feel so impulsive but it made me angry. The ideas that I once wrote down had no use, I just couldn't think straight even if I wanted to so bad. So without any second thoughts, I took the folder out of my bag once again, ready to throw it away.

Until a door swung open abruptly, a faint jazz music  filling in the silence of the hall. I looked up to see Nelly in a red dress, a christmas hat hanging on top of her head.