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.
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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