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.
