Last night, I stood outside my house, near the gate.
I was waiting for a friend to arrive.
It was getting dark and the lamp above the door was on.
In my hand, I held my bag and my guitar.
The street was quiet.
A small flag was hanging next to the gate, moving softly in the wind.
My nose felt cold in the evening air.
While I waited, I noticed little things.
A woman walked by with a broom in her hand.
Someone sat quietly on a chair inside their house.
I heard a drum from another house far away, and saw a man with a big belt close his door.
These small details always make the city feel alive to me.
Sometimes, when I wait like this, I see many stories in one short moment.
