In late October, in a gloomy atmosphere, I was completely absorbed in dancing and making suggestive movements to songs as captivating as whale melodies. Despite the sweat dripping on the fourth floor, I remained composed. With a friend by my side, we engaged in this activity purely because it felt right. When I got back home, I was surprised to see that the world had not changed and morning had not arrived yet. Motivated by a desire to escape from the unsettling silence of my living room, I immediately went outside in search of an adventure.
The road was covered in pumpkin guts, emitting a scent of burnt leaves and a rusty diesel truck. As I stood there holding an acquired piece of chalk, I felt insignificant, about to deface something meaningful to you. Amidst the dark October atmosphere, I danced and made inappropriate gestures to songs with lyrics as magnificent as a whale’s song. Despite the fourth floor’s lingering odor of evaporated sweat, it strangely didn’t bother me this time.
Playing music with my friend, we both felt it was the right thing to do. However, upon returning home, I was astonished to find everything unchanged and still nighttime. Eager to escape the eerie tranquility of my living room, I swiftly ventured outside for an exhilarating escapade. The road lay scattered in pumpkin guts in every possible direction.
