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Into Pieces

Into Pieces

Autor:strangersnotes

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Introducción
"I don't think it's a coincidence." Those words were not an opinion rather a point measured with assurance. She didn't look at our differences but focused on what's our strength. She began playing with a purpose, and I was just her card by mistake. But everything she did make me who I am today, and so are the others. That mysterious girl can be unreasonable sometimes, but all I could do was to trust the process.
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Capítulo

  As they said, we are the author of our own story. We are the protagonist in our life. We can choose to be strong, fragile, easy-going, or nobody. We are the master as we hone our strengths, understand our weaknesses, and conquer our fears to build our masterpiece, our better selves.

  I used to play a lot when I was a kid. I think that’s part of growing up. You will learn how to accept challenges, strategize, learn from your mistakes and failures, and celebrate winnings and success. Life is a game and every day is a battlefield.

  I was one of those random schoolboys you met in your school doorway, the guy who sat on a park bench, a customer who bought chips, or a stranger who happened to pass by. I thought that I would live my life just as low-key as my parents. Get a job, build a house, get married, have kids, grow old, and eventually die. A life that is a lot different like those fancy books, novels, or TV series. I never even imagine I would end up meeting a girl once, a strange one.

  All I know about her is her name, a non-specific address, her music, a subject she hates the most, and a habit. She has this weird set of cards she said her brother gave her before leaving her and went to college. I never really understand how she played it because 2 or more people played most cards. Those cards she had can be played alone. I thought that it was just like some tarot cards, but it’s not. All I know is that she has something she called “pieces,” and that’s when I realized she had played certain people around her hands, and that includes me.

  It was Monday morning, and everyone knows what Monday feels like for a guy who lives alone in his apartment, passed the alarm, cold coffee brewer, bacon, and eggs waiting to get marry and a lazy guy on his messy bed. I can feel the hot sun rays peeking on my window as it reached my neck. I’m still in a long argument with myself if I should get up and make money or not since I need some break. I slowly opened my eyes and saw the clock hanging on the wall. It was 7:30 am.

  “Oh, it’s still early.”

  I rolled on the other side of my bed, and sudden thoughts came to my mind, office hours start at 8 am. I checked my clock one more time, and my eyes went bigger.

  “Oh, what the f*ck! It’s seven-thirty!”

  I jumped out of my bed and ran to take a quick shower.