~~ • ~~
The morning felt peaceful.
The sky was clear. A gentle village breeze blew by, carrying the scent of earth and dry leaves.
I sat on the porch. A thin trail of steam still rose from the black coffee beside me.
I opened my cigarette pack.
Empty.
No. There was still one last stick.
"Hm..."
I took out the last cigarette.
Time to buy more.
Beside me, Yuna sat cross-legged. An open notebook rested on her lap.
The pencil in her hand moved quickly. Then stopped. Erased.
Wrote again.
Erased again.
The wind blew her hair, which was starting to grow long. A few strands fell across her face.
She blew the bangs out of her eyes without looking up.
"Are you doing your homework?"
"No," she answered quickly.
Her eyes remained fixed on the notebook.
She started writing something again. Then clicked her tongue.
"Then what are you doing?"
I leaned in slightly. Peeking at her notebook.
Yuna reflexively covered part of the page with her hand.
"I'm writing a letter."
