I should have kept on writing.
I took up a pen and found an old notebook, it had my husband’s scribbling on it. I think he abandoned it unknowingly. You know, like so many things in life we pick up, thinking we need them, but just, very simply end up abandoning them without too much thought, as a matter of fact not even realizing that, that something has been left astray somewhere. See now, I am really writing, I am philosophizing over a notebook which my husband bought and left after filling in a few pages. .
We live on the 16th floor of a new building. It further down a major arterial road and is frontal to a very busy, very tiny road. The building is so badly planned acoustically, that you can actually hear every single vehicle that passes by. Sometimes fights break out in the nearby slum when inebriated men lash out at one another, possibly hurling abuses at one another they actually want to hurl at themselves. I also hear dogs barking in the night, howling. Why do they bark so fiercely in the night and lay relatively calm during the day? Do they miss out on all the noise?
The height is good, I am sitting here in the balcony and I can see the rooftops of almost all the buildings in the vicinity. The breeze is an advantage, only that it sometimes too windy for my potted plants’ comfort sometimes, but hey that’ll only make them stronger, no?
I cannot wait for the rains, the air will be moist but cleaner, I cannot wait for the dust to settle.
I shouldn't go too ahead of me, I have the summer ahead of me to sit out before that happens.