This is a one-character story.
Part 1: A fiction #1
Diary entry 04/12/2017 02:51 GMT:
I hate Sundays. I strongly dislike Sundays. I feel that hate is such a harsh word to use. I know that for many people Sunday is a day to relax, refresh, a step aside from their everyday mundane, boring life. But here’s the deal, for a person who lives in their imaginary desert most days of their life, every day seems to be a Sunday. And I don’t want to waste my real Sunday entrapped in a sand-covered place. So this is what I do to avoid Sundays. I sleep through most of it. I wake up at around 18:00 or 19:00 just to avoid the chaos that humans create on a Sunday morning/evening on the roads, the malls, and the restaurants. And don’t even get me started with the malls on weekends, God it’s flooded with a sea of people. Gets my anxiety tickling. So to not keep you hanging on tenterhooks, here’s what happens with the rest of my Sunday, I face the realities and the fears of my life. I go out to the MALL. I know, shocker, right! See, the thing is people don’t go to the mall in the later half after Sunday evening, they’d rather be enjoying dinner at a posh restaurant or stay in at home with their family, and this is the time for me to actually go and shop around. Less crowd, fewer people looking and messing around in the shops, more time for me to roam and find what I’d actually like to buy. And no, I don’t sleep at all later that night or the following morning. I indulge in some kinda productive work. And Sunday is also a day when I actually drink smoothies. I like smoothies. They are cool and healthy.
So, yeah don’t like camels and Sundays.
To be continued…