Nonsense

A short reflection of thought.

The wind was howling through the branches. It was autumn. A non-existing smell of rotting leaves colored the air slightly crimson, in an unpleasant way. The sky was desperate. The only passerby on that road that day was a young man, properly yet cheaply dressed, hugging his gray coat to warm his hands. He looked laughable - but he was alone so that didn't bother him. He was tall,  distrait, strange, one would say had they encountered him then. But - he was alone, all alone. People are, he concluded, forgotten. They left on an unplanned vacation, one that has, also unplanned, extended itself indefinitely, as the contract clause states "as long as the sun rises in the morning". None if it really bothered him. The part that confused him was that his invitation did not arrive. Was it even sent? He was looking forward to an avant-garde summer or a tropical retreat at least, yet occurred it had not. Express-travel variants were always available, of course, though he tried to avoid them, for even though they were very effective he thought they were wrong, to say, lacking finesse. He was never a masochist, at least not like that. The strong wind drowned the bat of his footsteps. He arrived.

-Fin-