Chronicles of Being Catfished: The Eye of a Storm

I, smell of the body lotions used by the spa masseur on me.

I, smell of the bitter taste of coffee that fills the air.

I, stare at the fountain that is in front,
   water spewing out as the wind danced through the petals and leaves.

Such a noisy place to find myself in the eye of a storm.

Do I dare open it?
Do I dare venture in?

I know I should.

But, how long is the eye and how deep does it go?

Will it last forever?

Only I, will ever know.



tO b3 conTinu3d..