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Letters To Flor...

This last December, I sat quietly in a coffee shop and began to pen together my first story of sorts. I had tagged along on my buddy's business trip and decided to make some use of my time while he was stuck in meetings for most of the day. For anyone wondering, there's no better feeling than being the tag along on a trip which yields great food, beverages, views, and laughter.


The setting for the trip was Monterey, California and the weekend had both rain and fog which make Monterey always an ideal place to visit if you're looking to simply get away from the mundane day to day routine. We'd arrived on Friday evening in order to get ourselves situated for the weekend, my buddy more than me, as I didn't have to do anything other than watch a few college football games and attempt to find a pub for an English Premier match or two, come Saturday. I know, I know, it's tough to keep me entertained, I require far too much attention (rolls eyes).


It seems as though anytime I'm in Monterey, I have to take a quick trip by the wharf in order to try and capture some type of image with my camera. I threw my bags in the room, looked at my buddy and told him I'd be back in about an hour or so. My Uber ride was short and conversation with the driver even shorter as he wasn't much of a talker and I wasn't into pulling teeth at that moment in time. I was dropped off my Bubba Gumps so I did what anyone would do, I went inside asked to sit by the window which overlooks the ocean and ate a quick bite.


I found my sunset pictures and felt the cool mist in my face so my hour of fun was over and it was time to head back to the hotel to see what trouble my buddy was getting into or at least thinking of getting into before the night was over and done. IF my mom is reading this or my wife, we didn't get into any trouble. Wait, I'm not married, that was just a practice statement, also my parents have zero idea I even have a blog (this might be an actual lie).


Saturday morning came early due to it being a big sports day for me! I sat up in my bed and turned on the telly to find a few matches of note being played, to which my soul did a little shimmy. My buddy was off to his workshops at 8am and he said, "Don't get yourself in trouble with all this free time. Pray for me too that I don't fall asleep." I didn't pray for him but I was happy I helped him pick out his outfit for the meetings because lord knows he needed the prep. Note to self guys, please take a moment to make sure your clothes are crispy and clean and that you don't try to rock stripes with checkers and if you decided to wear a blazer, there must be a pocket square to complete your fit. I looked at my buddy and said, "Have fun storming the castle..." and I turned my attention to watching Everton smash Chelsea and Manchester United squeak by Manchester City. Obviously, being a Manchester United fan, my day was made with the win so I needed to celebrate a bit.


As I peered out the eighth floor window, I noticed a little coffee shop which seemed to be a good fit for me to grab a quick cup of tea and perhaps a good muffin; I love a good muffin. My attire for the trip downstairs was an all black ensemble capped with a red beanie, a bit hipster but still plenty hip hop. The walk from the hotel to the coffee shop was less than two minutes and I was racking my brain as to what I was going to truly do with my day.


Maybe it was the fact the coffee shop wasn't filled with too many people or maybe it was the fact it was overcast and there was a cool breeze running through the building but something caused me to pause and say to myself, "You should write something you creative bastard, it's a coffee shop and you have too much time on your hands".


I ordered my tea and picked out a blueberry muffin and found my way to a table which wasn't too far away from the door, that was ushering in this cool marine air that felt so nice against my freshly washed faced. Today was the day to do something that I'd never done, it was the day to sit and put a story into motion, a story which was 10% real and 90% imaginary.


For me, everything is a journey so why not this story as well. My fingers began this typing dance thing and my thoughts were flying at me out of nowhere; I'd found this zone within minutes of sitting at the table and it felt so real. During my first hour or so sitting there, I picked up the phone to call and friend and tell them about a line which I'd written (I never do that).


Two hours and two more muffins later, I was fourteen pages into what is, Letters To Flor, a book about a boy who... I'll let you figure it out for yourselves as it's available on Amazon, as of today.


Few people take note of what I do and how much I've toiled to get to this point within my writing and to the few of you who do, I say, "Thank you a lifetime over for your support and love/liking". I have a friend who hasn't let me off the hook for the publishing of this book and to you I say thank for your spirit and endless support. My buddy Armando has hyped me up about my blog pieces for some time and I cannot thank him enough for the early morning, midday, or evening texts with excerpts from certain blog pieces; the same can be said of my little brother Marcus who recently told me that he quietly follows too. I should name more of you but I'll save that for my final blog piece whenever that time presents itself.


I often think that I'm writing for myself and to myself so it's humbling when friends and even the occasional acquaintances send a note of appreciation. I know none of this is perfect but the beauty is I'm not writing to be perfect, I'm merely writing to show anyone who reads these words, that I'm grinding to find some semblance of happiness and meaning of this thing we call life and I pray you're doing the same.


I hope you order my second offering as this is a slow build towards more work, more thoughts, more moments of cool air touching my face, and hopefully my words touching your heart.


To Flor (fictional), "I love you... I hope you remember me, when I come to the end of my season(s)"




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