I look up, and hear the rain drops.
It is a sign, this pitter-pattering response.
I see colors, noises of pink on roads of rust.
It is the time. The vinyl is set up.
We are alone as the needle on the track.
Ground is touched. Grooves are cut.
All turning slowly, playing a daydream:
Autumn should have been here.
So winter would come earlier.
In spring we would be crossing the Sahara desert.
Then in summer sailing on the Mediterranean.
Greek is the destination of this journey.
The next starting point of the odyssey.
May the wind from Gulf of Guinea keeps blowing.
So we can reach our dream forest.
Static ground. Perfect for flood.
We walk on and on.
Suddenly it turns into pouring rain.
Hitting flapping ears in the surging wind.
And plantain leaves bowing feverishly under my feet.
Instinctively, I look down, try to cover the transparent brooch with my transparent hand.
When a beam of light shots through.
First my palm, then my heart.
Night Safari 7 – Bonfire(and the day of birth)
River on Baltic Sea 
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