Flown by stalk, I was gracefully placed at your doorstep, sitting on a blanket and neatly dressed in white. The first thing I thought was where are you? but this was my destiny so I was more than happy waiting at the door with patience, innocuously covering my eyes over what was to be my new home. An apartment built of orange brick, three stories high and easily reachable by a spiralling stair case guarded by a white hand rail with spindles. Tall trees surround quivering in the wind almost bowing, the leaves sounding of shimmers. I haven’t even met you before and it’s already perfect but unfortunately I don’t know what to do about this door in front. I can’t reach the doorbell nor the handle and I’m not looking at anything, I’ll be here whenever the time comes.
The door opens for reasons beyond me and a lady with a cigarette to the side of her mouth, hair rollers and a baby in her arms crying appears. She draws the cigarette and takes it from her lips, smoke plumes above and grey snow flakes fall around my feet. She looks down and I reach my arms out ready for hers, telling her with my eyes since I cannot speak “your here!” She turns around and closes the door.
