The ceiling fan hums steadily in the dim room.
A window, half-closed, lets in thin moonlight.
He sits on the chair, shoes still caked with dirt.
A half-burned cigarette, ash falling silently to the floor.
The painting on the wall tilts, unnoticed.
A glass of cloudy water, forgotten since morning.
He stares beyond, past the sleeping rooftops.
Not thinking much, just feeling time slip by.
A cat slinks through the alley, eyes glowing like lamps.
A dog barks in the distance, then fades, like a dream dissolving.
He blinks slowly, eyelids heavy as lead.
The room stays the same, missing something unnamed.
...
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vijay sam
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