Thursday, March 24, 2011
The evening breeze carries faint traces of rain making the twilight even more pleasant. The front yard, which was full of your friends and your brothers’ friends, now feels deserted. Everyone has gone back their respective homes. You played late as it was the beginning of your holidays. A relative who has come on a visit prepares to leave, and you tag along with your sister to see the person off. You walk by the double streets paved with Mayflowers, they look much better during the day, you think. You walk past all the familiar shops, the barber shop, the tailor, the grocer, they all look different by this twilight glow. The clouds probe the ground with a few drops of rain. You watch the bus come to a creaking halt, it’s empty too. A man carrying a transistor walks by, which is playing this song. You like the song, the whistling is what attracts you most, but it fades away on your way back home.