Ah, yes. Peace.
I am here now in the park, taking a rest. I did a lot of things yesterday. I am surrounded by papers, and I feel like coffee is flowing through my veins.
I stood up to take a short walk. The weather today is beautiful, and the air is fresh. As I turned around, my eyes caught a man looking up at the sky while playing the guitar.
Who is he singing to?
We only live once. I need someone to talk to. Should I sit next to him?
I walked towards the direction of the man I saw. He immediately turned when he felt me approaching. I stood beside him, and his face showed surprise.
"Why are you wearing a mask?" he asked.
"My breath smells bad. You might smell it," I said. He chuckled softly and adjusted his sitting position.
"Good thing you didn't die," he jokingly said. He looked up at the sky and smiled.
"Who are you smiling at up there?" I asked. He turned to me with a smile.
"My alien relative from outer space," he said and stood up. He quickly walked away, carrying his guitar.
Weird.
I just settled back into my seat. As I looked down at where I was sitting, I noticed a pick pendant lying there. It had "Victoria" written on it and it was black.
He must have left it behind.
Welp. Finders, keepers.
I stood up and pocketed the pick I found. This is your remembrance for me, handsome brother. When we meet again, I'll return it to you.
I don't think he recognized me. After all, I'm wearing a mask.
I looked at the pick in my hand. It seems to have sentimental value. It looks handmade. It's beautiful. I feel like I want to learn how to play the guitar.