During my childhood, Sunday mornings were the best. I used to love the twitting birds in the early ambience. I also used to love sniffing the fresh air coming in and out of our computer cafe.
Going outside was the best as playing inside, as long as it was with peer friends. Just minding nothing; bothered by nothing—not even assignments. It used to be playing Ragnarok or some games with friends all day.
Sometimes, I’d be jogging with some relatives.
It used to be fun.
Did I forget anything?
Oh the night—right.
Sunday nights are the worst. Together with my family, we used to go to the church every Sunday night. Well, not anymore. And, by the way, don’t try to jump to conclusions; they still do.
My heart always shivered while walking with a cold feet. Obviously, this is due to Monday just being Monday. I hated classes — and I will always hate it. I did love classes once — it was during my high school years. Just the sound of going to classes kills me.