@deki 12 November 2020

It's dark ...

The evening descended, the sleepy streets of Pancevo were left with anxious tires and the soles of imaginary passers-by. The city was closing.

The rain slowly stopped, and the fog, as thick as milk, crept in, revealing the horizon. That evening, in the wee hours, the sky became crystal clear after the fog, and Belgrade was clearly outlined in the darkness, wrapped in silver beams of the moon and shrouded in a million candles ... There it is! The coffee on the table at the bottom of the terrace took on a bitter taste. Once a pleasant corner, it has become a prison. The sky painted her face. So near and yet so far. In my mind, the streets lined up in a hurry. The desire for her look, the touch, drew me. Darkness and silence broke me. I wanted to silence the words with words, but I was alone in her thoughts, far from her touch, and the night, like every other evening, tormented me, a thousand unanswered questions, without help. Will it ever dawn? I slowly took my last sip of coffee and entered the room. The icy December air continued to spread through his lungs. I went to bed, but the aid didn't. That other world - the almighty, and it, always present, will never overwhelm me. When will it dawn? The sky slowly took on shades of gray. The chirping of birds broke through the sky, announcing a new day, a new beginning, a new, maybe better tomorrow and a new darkness that extinguishes reality and offers a world of imagination, but often reality does not want to go out, so it torments, strains, does not give me peace. It entangles me in the night in silence, like a toothache, so I bite, and it bothers me. The devil would know me, why I keep biting sore spots!