Liza
There are so many lies you cannot tell and Liza has to say this.
Walking down the stone steps on this early morning, clear and fresh, she decides to take a detour to the looming street, windy and wet. Short buildings loom on her sides, wet breeze swept through the tiny, narrow cobbled street. There's no thought this morning.
To avoid existence, that's a probability. Since being consciously alive can be a nihilistic thought on a purposeless morning. She didn't have to work; its a sunday. Her mother had company over and expicitly ask her to make an exception not to visit her. There wasn't anyone she particularly want to meet and really, nothing was on the agenda. Except maybe, french toast and hot coffee. The nearest cafe was down the main street so she decide to pop by from some fresh breakfast.
Walking down the stone steps on this early morning, clear and fresh, she decides to take a detour to the looming street, windy and wet. Short buildings loom on her sides, wet breeze swept through the tiny, narrow cobbled street. There's no thought this morning.
To avoid existence, that's a probability. Since being consciously alive can be a nihilistic thought on a purposeless morning. She didn't have to work; its a sunday. Her mother had company over and expicitly ask her to make an exception not to visit her. There wasn't anyone she particularly want to meet and really, nothing was on the agenda. Except maybe, french toast and hot coffee. The nearest cafe was down the main street so she decide to pop by from some fresh breakfast.