~° A letter to a known letterbox. (#letter4) °~
From the terrace i see,i just can see heads of people,like they r walking with no feets.
Roof of mercedes,dont know whoz sitting in there,I dont have anything to do with what they are talking with their seat belts stiched to their shoulders.
Spoiler leaving black smoke,and that doesnt take seconds to take colour of air,that we r breathing.Dont know how many million spoilers are spoiling this amenity.
I dont give a hoot to what happens when people get ill with CO they are inhaling everytime.They are the one who are combusting nature.
There comes a cat from left side of lane,strolling to right side.She have a fear from notoriously hungry dogs.
And she accomplished it,she should be bestowed by that traffic inspector,who saw her going under the wheels.
He is busy in making money,taking it from up the table,under the table,and who doesn’t ask for a lisence from person on feets,or cat on paws,ahaaa they got perks of poverty.
And there comes a dame,she is preety groomed.No,i didnt see her face,just head…but she tilted it up,she looked at me,oh no,not me,her boyfriend is waving from window,just on floor down mine.
I saw him many a times,coming through stairs,and going upstairs to terrace.
He lits his cigarette there.He too mix some smoke same like, spoilers on heavy butts of motors.
Good luck to your lungs Mr. Smoker,i know you have decided to paint your lungs black same as colour of your untrimmed beard.
There comes an oldie,looking up at turning to brown sky.He raise is hands,and he murmured something.He enchanted name of his god.
I saw him for an hour or maybe more. Old age has made him lethargic,he is standing with his back against an electric pole.
He reckoned for a taxi,taxi stops,he goes in,closes his window. Then he spits out,making face like yeah i got my taxi,now keep rolling driver until my door come.
I waved at him,though he doesnt care much about me,like i dont put my sheer concern about so many things.
Reach home safely oldie….goodbye.