Sitting down.

Jaunty tune playing over the radio. Rain streaming down the window. Coffee swirling, carving out shapes in the air. The arm chair slowly giving in and accommodating you. Age-eaten book patiently waiting to be flipped. The fragrance of morning dew spreading over yourself with a comeliness matched only by the cool-tinged air. Strains of violin scenting the air: Run your finger over the rain and curl out a heart; wish water was scarlet hued, to remind you: life is about vitality.

If only the urban jungle of HDB citadels could be like the poppy fields of the countryside what.