the night is not that cold now, still rains down the warmth of the past day... like a coat on the streetlamps. This window has been shut for some time, maybe not even this year summer , a long time ago , it seems like it is losing itself hope to be opened again , like it is forgetting its handles , like it is melting within the brick walls around, still neat but not very much ...
And this one inside there is somebody, orphan of the football worldcup travelling through tv shows, stealing some night for daydreaming or maybe just dinner with friends , voices have left and dishes in the sink.
This one is the one that draws me more. It is still warm , just closed , the flowers are still surprised to be left outside ... The cigarette still circles in the air ...It is probably not even shut , with a pair of eyes not sure yet whether to peep outside at the empty street or inside... inside through one's self or outside at the show of the town? That is the question.
