Zypher #2
I was near the place where I was supposed to spend the night, under the wooden roof covered with snow. I picked up the snow in my hand and threw it into the air, in a fake hope that it would reach to someone, I was missing the most. But alas! Deads don't care about the snow or sun. One might find it funny how these places are abandoned by the locals and the void they left in their homes is filled by the tourists or some mad wanderers like me. One old couple offered me a lift, to that place, as they lived nearby and they were worried I might catch a cold, since I don't belong there. As I refused it, I opened my phone camera to see do I looked like I belonged to some other place. Funny! I put on my headphones and started humming some old tunes. Old tunes have familiarity, they have comfort, and we know what the next verse is. I sat on the old bench, which was still wet and cold. My pale naked fingers, black nails looked pretty on white snow. No, I don't think this way. I was ...
