wind


In the dirty kitchen, standing right in front of the sink, my behind, there is a window opened up, I am about to make some hot water for a cup of tea. I am wearing white pants, a white undershirt, and holding a book in my left arm, trying not to lose where I am. With my free right hand I grasp the handle of the pot of the coffeemaker, then turn the faucet on, let hot water run a second, meanwhile I take a glance to the book. Fill hot water into the pot, steam is rising from it slightly, turn the faucet off and set the pot on the coffeemaker. A peaceful silence, no sound except somebody's taking a shower from the bathroom. I glance to the book again, in the moment a cool wind from the window blows up my back and arms, it is stroking my arms kindly. It is too sudden, I am dying to know what it is but I have no words to describe, only can realize fall is coming soon. This moment gives me perfect satisfaction, no complaint if I was dead right away, or rather I even wish. I wish this moment would continue forever, but the next moment the wind has gone. I wait for a while if the wind strokes me again, but it would never come again, I hear a sound from the coffeemaker, I am standing in the dirty kitchen holding the book in my arm, it is summer.I am so sad, lonesome, I can't think of anything important than the wind. And it is the time to go back to the book.