A sullen, grey mood has settled over. The clouds are close to the roofs of the buildings, trapping the heat and the humidity. A wind, a gentle breeze might lift up the weather, but there is none in sight. Neighbours across the street are scraping off the paint over their wooden windows, tiny chips littering the street. They’re late, most of the other houses finished painting the frames weeks ago. Perhaps they were on a holiday, just arrived? Maybe they just moved in, painting
Last night’s rain had finally cooled down the drowsy, hot weather. Now the curtains dance in a cheerful breeze and the sun shines in clear, open skies. As the church’s bell rings the midday, birds sing in the tree in front of the window. A group of kids pass under the window on the way to the city centre. Neighbours chatter in front of their windows. Someone is putting flowers in the pots in front of their front door, a little late. Another gust of wind dances through the hou
The tram shrugs and wobbles on the daisy ridden tracks. It never goes very fast, the stops are too close together to allow for that. It’s quiet, the only noise is the voice announcing the stops and the constant motors. The air is stuffy, not many windows are open, but rare gusts of fresh air mostly make up for it. As the tram snakes down the roads and through the city, it gets busier. The last stop is the train station, where everyone rushes out to catch their train and other
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.