It was still dark when the alarm clock rang. The strong glow of the street shone through my window casting a square shape of brownish yellow onto the wall of my bad room. I got out of bed when it was almost quarter pass five. The precinct was dark and quiet on this morning of “Mid-autumn festival” and no body was met. The gate has been opened when an oldie sat at the bench under the bush before the park, where she padded her legs noisily breaking the serenity of the morning. I entered the park travelling on the pathway alone and from a distance the muttering noise and giggle wafted from the canopy by the side of the tennis courts. I walked pass them to my painting site quickly without disturbing their cheers. I hurried to paint when daylight was brightening up the park. The view to paint this morning was the tiles on the ground again, which automatically become a patter of colorful strips with diagonals checks. Besides the geometric structure, I did not pay much attention onto the hues, but estimated them subconsciously through memories embedded. The sun rose casting soft shadows onto the park and people began to crowd under the canopy. They felt happy about the departure of the typhoon without entering the zone of Hong Kong and teased the observatory about inaccuracy weather report announced…. Anyway….


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