The Hiding Sun

Its as if someone had rinsed the clouds into a bucket of a painter’s grey water. I want the yellow back, the seven days in sunny June, the blue back. The orange ice lolly doesn’t melt as fast, the shadows have disappeared, and even the grass doesn’t seem greener, on any side!

The tiny thrill of wearing a light sweater and foam slippers surprisingly lasted for a couple days. The traffic is not making sounds, no street games down below, and I have been a total couch-cuddled baby. For every little and big task, I need to be cooed and swayed which, after getting no action turns into a military order.

The warmth is zipped up and every closet leads to this Narnia for now. And the freezer! The ice-cream probably has never had a harder time alluring anyone. My ice-eating fetish is on handbrakes in front of a BIG RED SIGNAL. It’s the cold to blame!

Sleeping in however is a complete deluxe diddle which is why I want the cold to stay a little longer.