Out of nowhere, a downpour of the sky's pent up agitation.
Forced to move my books and candles inside, I read by candlelight until my stomach began to rumble.
Now, it's midday, and I'm swaying to Angus Stone, smoking a dwindling cigarette and watching two pigeons bathe in a small puddle. The sweet aroma of my chai tea mixes with sandlewood incense burning slowly on the barbecue.
Surprisingly, I am content.
At this moment in fleeting time, I wouldn't change a thing.
How many times in our life can we say that?
There is beauty in the little things.
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