It rained raspberries today.
I saw two black horses - mother and daughter - fondle each other. On the rugged side of a beam that held a part of a veranda i saw an encarved literary masterpiece,
I DO NOT FIND IT A HARD JOB
TO KICK SOMEONE. IF YOU FAIL,
I saw the kitchen's chef humming a gospel while preparing tuna sandwiches. I saw a man yelling 'focus, Jenna, focus!' to his distracted wife when projecting on the empty wall of the bar the film he made during his mountain hike. I saw a woman squirm with pleasure after taking the first bite out of a chocolate flavored scone. 'A season,' resounded near the entrance of Park Station. It was an old man i saw in a clean white shirt that sat crouched down on the pavement. He cleared his sandpaper throat and quoted from his pocket size black book, 'and a time to every purpose under heaven'. I saw a man named Willem who had a small mole on his forehead. It looked like a tikka, which gave him the air of the patron of piety. I saw a woman smile, glow almost, when someone said 'that vest suits you excellently, Brooke' to her. I saw a pineapple standing upright on the freshly cut grass. It stood meticulously, as a dominant patriarch. Shovels danced above the surface, swinging off dirt by workmen below, digging a dam. Silhouets of teenagers, tall and small, walking to school against a background of clouds that portrayed their finest bronze encased jackets. I saw a woman look at me through the slots of her eyes, while putting on her bracelet that she took off before rinsing the plates and cutlery. I saw her doubtlessly approaching me. Her soft lips then teasingly brushed mine. It was all immaculate. That's when the rain started.