Everything seems to hang in air for a moment. Then, the rain starts pouring down. People giggle outside, exclaiming in surprise, scrambling to the nearest awning. Rain pounds on the roof tiles. The wind slaps drops on the windows. The neighbour’s newly hanged laundry gets soaked. She runs out to save them. Then the rain stops as suddenly it began. The sun starts shining again. The world shines like it got another coat of fresh paint, still wet. Due to unforeseen circumstances
While the sun sets, it casts long shadows on the wall. The trees outside sway to a phantom wind. Their branches dancing inside, bringing the room alive. The whole world is painted a warm red. One of the distant neighbours is having a gathering, the laughter and chatter reaching to your ears. It’s a balmy weather, but it looks much warmer than it feels. The breeze is the one constant that never lets your skin get too warm under the sun, setting goosebumps in. Perhaps closing t
Late nights are generally quiet around here, except for the occasional rattly bike that rides through. It feels lonely sometimes that the only noise you hear is the fan of your computer and the mellow music coming out of the speakers. You can almost believe you are the only person on earth, the houses next to yours are rows and rows of empty shells. You can believe that the flickering lights of the apartment complex in the distance are stars and the streetlights run on magic.
about a fleeting ripple
This is a place to share what I have been writing or thinking about lately, which is mostly about fountain pens and books.