Goal of the day: 1574 words. Written: 723.
[Hidden] g. 4-2-room~under~the~right
Saturday, around 6am
Hi, Aviete!
I am writing this letter sitting on my balcony. It's early morning, the sun hasn't come around the corner yet, and I'm listening to the birds, watching them fly, enjoying the cold gusts of wind and the warmth under my jumper.
Also, just a moment ago, I was dreaming of you sitting next to me.
I stood up, opened my self-made curtains/schirma, went back to the living room and brought my computer back and turned on OmmWriter - a calm and distraction-free writing app.
As the music played in the air, I thought for a moment about turning it off. However, this did not scare away the birds on the cherry tree in front of my balcony, and a moment later I realised that this music was still suitable to go with the birds' calls.
* * *
Forgive me for typing on my computer. But I guess it will be more convenient for me to write this way at the moment. And I guess it will be easier to read the letter.
I am sitting on my balcony, at home, at six in the morning, wearing a warm jumper (with a hood on the back and a fur coat inside!), listening to the chirping of the sparrows and the family of tits waking up in the fence post. I also watch. Watching a blackbird eat cherries with its red beak straight from a tree branch.
I'd love to eat cherries too.
It is now a few minutes after six. And I have been awake for two hours. Because today is the second day that I get up at four in the morning. It feels strange to go to bed at four o'clock, but now I am getting up.
A fat tabby cat with white feet has just walked by in the neighbour's yard. He didn't see me, but I guess that's natural at this time of day. I guess he was sleeping outside this night.
The air is fresh. Although I can't smell it through a slight sniffle, I can feel the gusts of breeze on my bare feet on the bottom bar of the metal railing.
I feel like I'm at the lake. White Duck. Maybe on the island of Kos. Maybe in a village where I have never woken up in the morning in my life.
* Smile *
Well, here it is. I am writing to you. Because I remembered while I was sitting. The black tea in my cup has turned into cheddar, and I'd love to have you on my balcony and sit next to you. Under you or behind you, of course, with a green cushion for comfort.
I don't know why exactly I want you to be here. Maybe just to show you the morning.
To sit next to you. Maybe to talk. Or be silent. But to observe and learn something new. And if you get bored and want to sleep, you go back to bed.
Yes, I know, my wishes are strange. But I like to think about them.
* * *
(A spider hangs in front of me, in the gap between the balcony railings. Knitting a web for itself. Or a sweater for winter. I don't know. But he is working!)
(O! A starling and a gang of three other birds have just jumped onto a cherry branch and started picking berries! I love it! I feel like I'm in a zoo.)
(By the way, would you like to go to the zoo?)
* * *
When you read this letter, I guess you will...
- You sat in front of me:
- In the café;
- Parke;
- Location;
- In a house somewhere;
- In a restaurant (low probability).
- You will sit next to me:
- (as appropriate).
- You will sit on me:
(Not likely, but I'd like it - it's comfortable to hug. {Note: Only if you were sitting on my lap. On your head is a bit awkward.})- (as appropriate).
- You will be sitting or standing somewhere and somehow, but I won't be able to see, because you will read this letter later, after the meeting.
(Ah! I won't be able to see the look on your face! {Note: I hope to smile when reading this part. Or a theatrical grimace. Take your pick.}) - You will be sitting or standing somewhere and somehow, but I won't see, because you will read this letter before we meet.
(Extremely unlikely.)
...And I hope you enjoy reading this letter. If you do, then raise your head and tell me you like it. Out loud. If you don't - you can too. Or you can come and give me a (big) hug. In a word, let me know.
* Shyyypteli *
Andrrr yes, I know. This letter is weird. It's like that for me. But he is like me. It's the way the thoughts in my head go. With a bit of science, systems, the beauty of the world. Of discovery, experimentation, poetry, tenderness, roughness, openness, a desire to love(s) and a pinch of eccentricity.
* * *
(Eccentric - from the centre.)
(After ascending Aleksotas Hill, drive in the direction of Marijampolė to Europos prospekt. Then turn right to the right turn at the end of the avenue. Go straight on for about 700 m to a red brick building, after which turn left. After about 300 m, stop at the intersection of three streets by the post boxes. Go straight ahead and into [Hidden] Street. When you enter the courtyard of the fourth house, press the second floor doorbell. Surprise!)
* Leaning over, he picks three cherries from the balcony. He throws one away because it has been slightly eaten by starlings. He eats one. Offers one to the imaginary Aviete. Since she is not there, he eats it himself. *
Want a cherry?
* Next, they eat cherries picked straight from the tree. Every second one is offered to the imaginary Aviete. *
Well, I'll end the letter as I started it. Unexpectedly.
This ending of this letter sounds different from the one I had come up with when I ate the first cherries... But so be it. Newly original.
* Smile *
Hereoooo!
Someone you've corresponded with a lot, but only met today,
Daniel
P.S. Well, come here. I'll give you a hug, as promised! If I haven't done so by the end of this letter.
P.P.S. Say something in German again! Or some fast-talking Lithuanian.