Weekend Evening

                       After the last bell, I hurriedly changed my classroom shoe, took my sport kit and helmet and rushed towards the exit door, a big wooden door. The clear blue sky, sun’s brilliance on the facade, the mellow blow of summer wind, lingers my hair all through my ride home from the school over the silent freeway road in the cycle lane. I rushed into Universities Guest House and parked my cycle in my favourite spot and ring into our apartment’s bell where I used to be welcomed warmly by my tiny little brother, Aris, who was just 12 months, who would gesture me with cuteness.

                      I then dumped my backpack in a corner and sat in front of the TV with some peanut butter and cucumber. That day, we took the road to Opera’s back house park. I rode faster to the park and used to be happy over myself for making at first place, because that way Aris used to get little jealous as my mom used to pamper him for not reaching there at first. The sky scraping trees, light green bushes, small pathways and few statues surrounded by seasonal flower of color pink, yellow, orange, red, white and purple, the park. At the end of the park there stood an old giant tree, all alone in between the meadow, where many passer-by or lovers had their names craved on its bark. As mom and Aris used to rest on the wooden benches, I lied down my cycle and helmet in a corner and had some alone time lying under the tree gazing at the clear blue sky, wanting to fly like the hawk spreading its wings underneath the clouds, having a clear view of the city. The smell of the green grass reminded me of my gardening class with my homeroom teacher, where I stood confusingly with an old rugged apron, pale boots which were dumped in a corner near the back store, holding supply cart with my dirty gloves in middle of the garden working as a part of my task. 

                       I could hear Aris getting bored through his whining. I took my cycle and drove towards back-way to the supermarket to shop for the weekend where I stopped on my usual favourite “Brat-Wurst” stand in the train station few minutes away where I used to be taken aback by it’s mouth-watering smell, which used to entangle from a distant. 

                      On our way back home after shopping, we made our weekends plan, here and there, creating more memories, sweet memories with my family.