An old clock is hanging on the wall of my room. This replica of cuckoo clock has lost its pendulum and sitting on the perch of the clock’s window the old wise owl is quiet now.
It’s ten in the morning and looking at the sky, I can see the pale yellow sunshine which is a sign that winter season is slowly creeping in.
Outside, sitting on the hanging line, the sparrows are chirping. My mother is in a habit of placing bird’s seeds and they’re here to eat them.
Right now when I’m typing these words on my laptop, I’m thinking of the university building situated at the back side of my home. The construction work is in progress and the hammering sounds are disturbing me. The building is not far and I can hear the builders are laughing and talking with each other.
In a street there’s a cart vendor. His voice is loud but I swear it’s not clear. He has made his own tune and without stopping he’s shouting the names of his vegetables. I can hear the doors opening and the women are gathering around him . They all are demanding fresh vegetables.
Here, sitting on my bed, I’m hearing all these beautiful sounds. I love this time in the morning. For me, morning is so dull without any such noise 🙂
writing 101 prompt: let the scene write itself