Heat had invaded my apartment. I could no longer hear the vibrational hum of the aircon, expelling all warmth from this space. My body ached under the blanket.

It seemed the outside world had stopped. My ears could hear the gentle rustling of leaves, carried by December winds. There was chirping and the hum of an industrialized nature beyond my window. None of the fanfare of last night was there, nor the intensity of everyday traffic. It was as if the world had gone still.

My ears follow the sound from the window, where outside lies leftover fireworks and the mass of birds in flight. Their wings flap over to the few trees left. I thought of the time when my mother would tell me this would be an omen for rain to come—but the sky was bluer than the artificial colors generated by a computer. The sun shone bright on the roofs below, burning into the rusty galvanized iron.

OPEN THE WINDOW

The stench of tomorrow greets me. There are people on the streets and in their homes. All seem static. I can see faces planted firmly to the ground, some are even facing the sky.

Go back to sleep

Go To Her House