Sun spots

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Was battling bitter sleep and heavy ennui in the pantry. A friend came over to say bye. She was leaving for home. I mumbled something and slumped over. A minute later, she poked me, pointed at the window and left.

Outside, the sky hung spongy, dirty grey, muddied with the day’s grime – like this deep, thick quilt of heat and nothingness. Right in the middle of it, the sun shone. It seemed as if a white, smooth, round pearl got prematurely exposed in the oyster’s womb.

With that, the sun set. The day was complete.

Maybe things really do get perfect just before they end.

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