Chances are...

The cool southerly wind came up suddenly, stirring the dust and tumbling old newspapers down the empty street. A cat warbled in the distance and the only street light flickered and buzzed. The early morning light painted the sky in shades of pink broken by grey clouds scattering across the sky. The glow of a cigarette flared and a cloud of smoke billowed and disappeared. The lingering smell of tobacco a welcome distraction from the usual stench of the place. The stillness and quiet felt warm and welcome despite the chill in the air. A little piece of freedom, just for a few minutes, where time lingered a little longer, the usual racing thoughts floating away like clouds on the wind. Just a minute longer, a second, to not have to care, to be worry free, to hold on to the feeling of just existing without consequence or doubt. To feel loved for free and the freedom of love. The last cloud of smoke disappears into the sky and the fleeting image of a childhood dream skitters like a mosquito across water.