Everything still shimmers slightly. The grapevine on the brick wall I stop to admire quivers under my gaze. I know that it does this only because I looked.

I could walk endlessly tonight. The weather is perfect for it. It’s the perfect time for me to swim in my impressions of things so far, breathing in the scent of jasmine dancing delicately in the air.

Some particular thoughts rise up, coming in close.

“You don’t write as much as you used to.”

“True.”

“You would always default to seeing the worst.”

“True.”

“It’s funny how things don’t bug you like they used to.”

“It is.”

“What do you think is happening?”

“Change.”

“Into what?”

“I don’t know. That’s what excites me.”

“You’re not scared?”

“No. I was scared when I thought I was stuck. I felt like I wasn’t living anymore.”

The thoughts evaporate almost as quickly as they appear.

Continuing my walk home towards the tram stop, I see three people having a picnic on the median strip under the moonlight. From where I stand, they look so cosy and intimate on the blanket covered with snacks and drinks. I will never know if the cosy intimacy I perceive is their reality or whether I am just projecting what I want them to be experiencing and feeling. It’s probably the latter, but there is the slightest chance that I have guessed correctly.

Leaving the sleepy glow of the quiet street I just walked down, I glide onto the main road and over to the tram stop, where I see the tram coasting towards me. The tram stops in front of me, and for the briefest moment, I imagine it to be a mechanical caterpillar. I get inside so I can finally get back home.

The scent of the jasmine is long gone, and I look out the window to see the moon. My body finally starts to feel tired.