The wee hours of this morning weren’t quiet as the roosters crowed louder than usual. Far upon the sky, the sun kept playing hide-and-seek, and that made the dawn vanish—so there was no point in seeking for a beam of sunlight from the horizon. The roosters were keen on crowing; they even raised their voice to the harsh pitch that surely annoyed any creature dwelling on the earth.
Apart from that, the morning was expected to be perfect as I would spend time to make small talk with the boy—who was exhilarated by the fact that he was one of your motivations.
The long wait was over as he arrived and lingered around the green steel door while I was settling back in the chair holding a glass of milk coffee that bore a delicate scent, which ought to be natural. The milk coffee tasted a bit bland, for I didn’t put much sugar into the glass. On the table lied a crisp loaf of bread that looked hot and fresh.
Knowing that I was pretending not to sense his presence, he summoned the courage to approach the table and sat in the chair opposite to my position. Several minutes had passed, I sat still, and so did he. As a complete stranger to each other, we looked around to avoid eye contact. Weirdly, I found myself wiggling the toes while he was clenching his fists. A while later, the silence was broken when I clumsily stood up and walked toward the kitchen in search of the knife. He seemed not to move even an inch when I got back to the table. Absently, I cut the loaf in half. Then I kept a half, gave him the other half and gestured for him to eat. Immediately, he gulped down and finished it while I was still chewing pieces from the fourth bite. After three minutes or so, he became lively as he was carrying a big grin that banished the sorrow on his pale face. He opened his mouth, mumbled something inaudible. Apparently, he was eager to talk, and he did it fantastically well. As such, riveting stories emerged as he talked non-stop about you and his memories of all the letters. In the beginning he wasn’t so confident when sending out that first-ever letter to you, for he considered it a whining rant and, worse, it was his first time to compose such a lengthy letter. So he didn’t look forward to your response, but life never stopped being a surprise as you did reply to share your thought and to express sympathy. From then onward, you and he had become pen pals who always found joy in reading each other’s writing.
The clock died at 10 o’clock when we ended the conversation, for we’d run out of things to say. Pushing the chair away in a methodical manner, he straightened up. As he rose to his full height, I presently noticed that he was a tall, skinny boy with fair hair. Despite his physique, he looked vigorous when trotting to the green steel door. As soon as he reached there, he turned around and waved at me. I wished to call him back for a handshake, but he’d already been out of my sight in just a moment of my hesitation.
After closing the door, I ascended the stairs and sprinted to the balcony where I rarely visited, for I had no interest in glancing at people from a high viewpoint. This time, however, I turned my head up to search for the sun. It was behind the gray clouds, blurred, yet dazzling. Eventually, it started to shine.