I always thought you were my friend. You used to keep me rooted to the ground. I stuck by you even when you used to drag things down. I never complained when my favourite bottle broke. I didn't protest when you toppled me from my bike. It didn't hurt when you made my daughter tumble. I wasn't cross when you uprooted the tree during the last rain. But I will never forgive you for not letting me fly.
Looks like the fog just spared my window to the street. The street lights looked liking smokers in an alley. The cobble stones were wet from the drizzle. The street dogs were busy barking at something. A breeze just unsettled the garbage can's lid. My world hasn't changed much. Everyday I look for some sign of change. Nothing seems to change. I have grown bald. My eyesight has dimmed. My kids have grown. The window pane has gathered dust and dirt. The spiders have evolved. Some old buildings have given way to new ones. The neon signs have gone. Still nothing seem to have changed. Change they say has to come from within. But then, what can come out of an empty narrow dead end?
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