Raindrops

I went to the grocery shop nearby. Saw an old… Saw a person from the days long gone. The air around felt thick of unsaid hellos and goodbyes, questions and greetings, explanations, life, time that has passed, we being perfectly aware of it. I breathed in the emotion, felt like drowning as if it had been liquid and perhaps it was, and in a minute he was gone like he’d never been there. I found traces afterwards, I smelled the oddity in his clothes, new people around him, new places he had been to. He hadn’t changed a lot and neither have I. 

And here I sit, in my upstairs bedroom, on the window sill looking at the busy city below and think about the other tiny persons around its corners and turns, wondering how often or seldom it is when they stop to think like I do now. No snow, but it’s raining again and the raindrops find the glass like our younger fingers did each other, sticking to it but falling down and fading away after a while.