A quiet annotation...

The wind was there but as meek as a mouse, while I sat there. It blew mildly past the enclosed wagon, as I sat with my head snoozed against the glass window of the Metro train. The weather was cold and dry and around me were people of all colors, as the train advanced towards Versailles, a small place on the outskirts of Paris. My legs were aching, the muscles were numb with exertion, but there was something in the air that meliorated the mood.

The sun was terpsichoring between the clouds, the faint morning rays kissing my body intermittently. After a short travel, on reaching my destination, as I came out, the dryness outside received me. I looked up at the sun which by then had risen by a couple of degrees. Feeling lazy, I lifted my arms up, palms open and facing the sky to the east, was just looking around.

My dry fingers clicked a snap of the cold dry surroundings. With the freshness in the air, my temper sparked like the damp firewood. Inside my mind, a quiet annotation got registered, 'let's check later if at all the dryness was perfectly snapped'.


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