Sundays have essentially become time for one's self. It has become a routine to walk around the neighbourhood, books and magazines in tow. Usually, I head to the nearby school's field or playground, sit under a tree and read. But it drizzled a little bit this morning, so I went to the nearest Starbucks.
Reading in popular coffee shops such as this is never ideal, and sometimes, you can't help but overhear seemingly compelling life-conversations at the table next to yours. It's a different kind of entertainment, which also depends largely on one's patience/level of tolerance.
I snapped the photo above after getting back, just to test the natural light streaming from my east-facing window. There's nothing particularly special about it, except for the guanábana milkshake my dad made earlier. The last time I had this fruit was in ice cream form when I went to Ecuador for a school trip. It's currently giving me nostalgic vibes.
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