In the early morning, he walks down the street noticing the lonely dandelion making its way through the cobblestones.
He looks up to the sky every ten steps or so, to better feel the softness of the clouds.
He smiles to the toothless neighbor because he likes him, and because he likes to see his toothless smile!
He hums an old tune from a scratchy and dusty opera that happens to fit his mood perfectly.
There are four red doors on the right and two bleu ones on the left.
In the open market, he picks up a few apricots. He loves their aroma and that they open up with just a press from the thumbs. He will make some apricot jam later and offer a jar to the toothless neighbor.
He exchanges a few words with friendly fruit vendors.
He greets the dandelion on his way back home hoping it won’t feel too lonely, and looks up at the sky.
The rain is coming. The air is filled with its scent, the clouds are a tint grayer and birds are flying low.
The village dreamer.
It could be me.