Last week of September
I watched the sleepy eyes were softly shaken by the thump of passers-by's footsteps and the right amount of honking horns. The doors were opened, the dust was swept off. The light crept through the branches. The twigs hummed a nature song. The coffee pot was brewing as the kettle whistled. And just like that, the town was bashfully awake. I remember wishing that day would stay like that.