An undistinguished day.
In fact to be fair rather a good day as Feridun was in it.
Morning hours wasted in dad’s office, then the crowd of Saturday rain in Caddebostan.
Weather is as cold as ice. Something which has the sound of rain but which also looks like snow falls on earth. A cup of Cristmas tea for me, a cup of Haitian coffee for him…
The sun emigrates, dusk comes. Feridun goes back home, and so do I…
A young man sits next to me in the shared taxi. He holds the giftbox of a love of which VAT is paid, and a bunch of flowers… Mostly red roses, and some little poor, purple hyacinths.
Young man takes off the taxi in a rush, and he never notices that he drops a small bunch of purples. I save the Lady Hyacinth, and put her in my shopping bag.
I come home. I bring together the flowers and the water, place them next to a pile of books for a rest, and watch them. Night is still cold, but Lady Hyacinth smiles at home.
I sleep with her scent.