I have been told by the baker that writing a diary might help conserve memories, so when I forget them, I can go back and read them. Today, I will write about how my life has been;
It has been a month since I started working at the bakery. The
establishment has been full of friendly people, and everyone always had a smile
on their face. At first, I worked at the cash register. The baker was really
impressed on how fast I could calculate the change for someone who paid in
cash. I don’t know how I could process these numbers in my head so quick; I
didn’t even need the help of the calculator that the baker had given me.
Something about the numbers resonated in my mind, and inspired my heart. When a
client would hand me a dollar, the texture of the bill would give out a burst
of warmth to my spine. This job felt like something I used to do all the time.
It felt so familiar, yet, I can’t remember when I learned to work a cash
register. It brought me joy, but it also brought me confusion. Where did I
acquire this love for a job that seemed so practical?
But that was only the beginning of these strange feelings. Several
weeks later, the baker taught me how to produce several pastries. I remember
when he first introduced me to his secret brownie recipe. As the brownie mix was
on my hands, I felt that warm feeling again. It felt as if someone was hugging
me, holding me so I would never go. Why did baking portray this warmth to me?
It seems as if whenever I touch a certain object, I remember a happy moment of
my past. But I could never really explain this feeling to anyone, all I could
do was smile whenever I felt this, because it did bring me happiness. But I
couldn’t quite remember a specific moment, it just felt like a texture of
warmth.
In the middle of a white night, I awoke from another nightmare. I
kept going back to that same island in my sleep, but I don’t want to write
about it now. But I do want to share with you the thing that brought the most
warmth to my heart at the time. I looked at the clock, and it was 2:00 am. I
got out of my bed and sneaked outside the bakery. I headed for the beach,
walking on the empty streets. I had escaped to this location several times
already, because it brought me happiness. When I got to the beach, I sat down
and looked at the sea. It was sunset, but it was also dark enough to see the
stars twinkle above in the sky. I sat along in the beach, and felt the sand
with my palm. It felt dry, but at the same time it was glowing with warmth.
This was not like the beach in my nightmares, but this felt like a beach that
made up one of my memories, somewhere in my mind. Yes, I could not get myself
to remember who I was before I awoke in the bakery. But, certain fragments in
this life brought back a feeling of warmth. I could feel it in the texture of
the sand, the brownie mix, and the money at the cash register. I have certainly
met this feeling before, in a time I can’t remember. I looked up at the skies, and
breathed in the atmosphere that the infinite galaxies gave out.
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