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For Our Tomorrows

đŸ‡”đŸ‡­aleksulyanova
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Synopsis
Ashita Gonzales, a 23 year old auditor, boarded a train and was whisked away in the year 1938. How can she get back now?
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Chapter 1 - Chapter One

For Our Tomorrows

Chapter One

"Hey, Guys, I'll be in a hiatus for a while and I am not sure when will I be back. I'll try my best to figure out this adulting stint and I'll come back for shoots once again! My personal account will remain active though. Thank you for supporting Ashie Photography all these years!"

It was posted last 2016 and now it's already 2018.

I used to be a cosplay photographer for, like, three years. I gained a lot of lifetime friends in the cosplay community and fell in love within the community but got rejected (yikes). That rejection was one of the minor reasons why I took a hiatus. But it was mostly college and adulting-related.

I was fresh out of college, reviewed to death to get that cursed CPA license, and got employed in an audit firm. They said it was the best profession to gain experience so I did.

I sighed. I guess I have to accept that I was never meant to be a good creative and the only way to have stability for me is an office job.

Last week, my grandmother gave me a vintage table. I decided to check out the cabinets and I was pretty amazed with the flower carvings on the drawer. When I opened the top drawer, a black and white faded photo appeared.

I lifted it for a closer look. It was a photo of a tram. At the lower right corner, there was a small "Escolta, 1938." written in white ink. I flipped it and there was a small note written on it.

"For my tomorrow, I hope this photo finds its way to you.

Yours Truly,

A. Briones"

I smiled to myself in amusement. It kind of made me feel as if the note was written for me. You see, I always believed that people take romance more seriously. I mean, look at my grandparents. They have been together for so long and I can still see the love between them.

Or maybe I'm just a sucker for vintage photos. They always have these mini notes behind those photos and I used to look for these in antique shops in Cubao Expo.

I have this box full of Instax shots. I spend a lot of money for Instax films and take mundane shots of flowers. My grandma has a large flower garden and she taught me languages of flowers.

As a reply, I chose a shot of pink camellias which I took during one of my out of town field work. I took a black marker and wrote down.

"To Mr. Briones,

Here is a flower for you.

Blumentritt, 2018.

Ashita."

Then placed it inside the top drawer where I found the photo. I chuckled to myself. As if this table will churn out another reply! Probably it's just sleepiness getting to my system.

Still though, why am I looking forward to a reply?

I sighed and set the alarm clock on my phone before I sleep. I have to wake up early since I was sent to do field work for client located in Espanya boulevard.

----

I woke up earlier than my alarm clock. I decided that I'd rather start my day early and not go back to sleep.

I stretched, stood up, and went to heat water from the kettle for my coffee. I live alone in this house since I'm an only child and both of my parents worked abroad. Both of them are in Japan and they would message me everyday or video call them whenever we are all free.

While I was waiting for the water to heat up, I went back to my room and checked the top drawer of the desk. Upon my surprise, the Instax film I placed was gone and there was another photo in its place.

It was another vintage photo of a typewriter on a table with a mug beside it at the left.

"For my tomorrow, I, too, still yearn. Yearning for your return.

Yours Truly,

Briones, A."

I recalled what pink camelias meant and when I read the word, "yearn", a shiver came down my spine.