~•VK•~
Taehyung, a writer, wrote his thoughts on a sticky note after completing a book and left it in the book.
A photographer who often used to pay a visit to this library discovered this note.
But this note continues in seven parts as his poem.
H...
Through the open windows of the apartment, flashing traces of street lights entered the room. A man in his towel came from a refreshing bath. The fine built of his body dripping wet was shining under the warm dim light of his room. He ruffled his wet hair as the water droplets dripped down from them. The apartment seemed noiseless, that silent like no one was living there.
The sound of car horns and traffic was echoing through the apartment as the man turned on his music player to suppress the sounds with beautiful Melody.
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After a relaxing shower, he needed a strong coffee to wash away his tiredness of the long day he went through. He carried the big cup of coffee to his room and looked at all the hard work he has done for the day. The table on which his eyes twinkled was filled with various Polaroids, mood boards and various photography tools. The big screen in front of him showed his new project's work. He sat on his chair putting the cup on the table.
He pondered, I hide behind a camera lens, I experience the world with these lenses, I capture moments for future which should be evaporated long ago, I bury myself to give them the perfect but that's what 'they' think. My eyes are my lens, I see the unexplored in something common and I like that. Photography was not the first thing, imagining was.
❝People spot a big black lens, and they worry about what they're doing, or how their hair looks. Nobody see the person holding the camera. ~Erica O'Rourke, Torn (Torn Trilogy, #1)
Those experienced hands danced with the mouse as he created his works more stunning using Photoshop. The editing and Photoshop work which requires hours of dedication seemed to be completed within a few minutes. After a long stretch while sitting on his chair, the man stood to check up on his photography tools.
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He picked the empty cup of coffee which was long finished hours ago and proceeded to dump it in the sink. He came back to the room and checked up on his camera and other lenses. The delicateness he carries in his eyes while he holds them surely states how much he appreciated those little friends of his. Cleaning and packing everything back, he looked out of the big mirror door of his apartment's lobby.
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❝There's something about sitting alone in the dark that reminds you how big the world really is, and how far apart we all are. The stars look like they're so close, you could reach out and touch them. But you can't. Sometimes things look a lot closer than they are. ~Kami Garcia, Beautiful Darkness (Caster Chronicles, #2)
Those glimmering lights of the city and the cityscape were soothing to him making him wonder that when the night comes it's the starting for some people's lives. These soft and calm nights are the time when some people are working the most. When some of us are sleeping well in our cozy comforts, some are working hard under those dim lights.
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❝I love the silent hour of night, For blissful dreams may then arise, Revealing to my charmed sight What may not bless my waking eyes. ~Anne Brontë, Best Poems of the Brontë Sisters
"Hah~ it was a productive day. Let's proceed to another one."
The man changed in comfortable clothes and continued towards his bed. Before going to sleep, he checked his phone for any urgent notification or something.
Ping! Ping! Ping!
Few more notifications popped up on the notification bar while he looked at the earlier ones.
"Tomorrow, 9am sharp!" - Ms. Go (The Assistant)
"Goodnight Jungkookah~" Mother.
He smiled and put it back on the cupboard beside him and drifted in a profound slumber.
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