In a Catholic Church where the hall was marvelously decorated with fancy wall painting, we were running so fast for the movie was about to begin. It was obvious that the joy was on my face and in his heart as well. However, all these things seem to good to be true. It felt as if an invisible gap was between us and there was nothing we can do. Five theatres have passed but none was the one we were looking for; thus we kept running. The elevator, in the early 19th century form, opened as I saw its hand points to five. Just as the doors closed, Rodger started to cry. Immediately, both depression and frustration seized me, so tide as if they wanted me broken. "I just can't take this anymore!" he cried out. "I can't date someone without sensing her love! I just can't." Though I was as disconsolate as disconsolate can be, no words was coming out of my mouse. Silence filled the air and tension froze the time. He rushed out the elevator where I stood there motionless like a snowman. I cried not, sobbed not and wept not. I cruised ghostly in TPC. A bus no longer felt like a bus, for it couldn't take home. To nowhere and no one I belong.
