Through the door

A  very sad evening red wanders around, enters through the front door, crossing the kitchen till reaching the old clock next to the door. There the red takes a break, looking sadly at the black hands, tik-tok-tik-tok , six times but the red does not move, but wanders slowly towards the cupboard, where the shadow are growing faster, till the sad red finally leaves through the door, not looking back, the black hands still tick  as if our visitor would never have been noticed at all. The neighbor’s dog barks at the moon and I wish a falling star would just enter as the sadly red sun did, right now standing in the door, because I need to make such an urgent wish, but this is maybe not what falling stars are for, maybe they just fear the wishes as I fear no falling star would ever come to me, would not find its way through my door as the sad red does, would not recognize me waiting behind the still- not green- hedges, where just a few blue dots appear to be crocuses, would just drop by, not noticing me watching the clear and bright sky and never hear the old, wooden clock with its black hands tik-tok-tik-tok.

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