That day passed like a blink.
Just as the first day did.
And after many a bouncing off of ideas.
Of approvals and rejections.
Sanctions and revisions.
I finally had my train of thought heading somewhere.
The next step was to draw the story board.
And try my hardest to faintly make it resemble a comic strip.
So I went and grabbed myself a cup of tea first.
And then sat in that little room next to the library.
On one of those tall bar stools.
Slapped a few of my hand-made leaves on the counter.
And left a 3B graphite sketching pencil to casually roll over it.
****
The hopeless romantic that I’ve always been, I knew I couldn’t possibly start doodling without looking out of that giant window. And gape for at least some minutes.
I noticed the winter approaching us, over an expanded concrete forest.
One could feel the wind start up, the fog gently clot and the sun tenderly pelt.
One could see a wallpaper of cool blue shifting patterns in the sky.
A warm ochre 4 PM sun like a butterscotch scoop.
Wrinkled pastel leaves.
Sunburnt peeling dreams.
And a warm, tea-sipped, slow mood...
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