The month of late monsoon, it was always the most beautiful of words, Mircea would always feel, evoking, orange-flowers, swallows and regret. She sat by the window with Urban-watching the change in the sky, clouds passing by just like any stranger on the busy streets of a market.
Mircea was sitting on Urban's lap-he had engulfed her in a hug from the back. She had felt chambered-the moment had been frozen for eternity and it was warm till the end. It was as if she was in a placid dream. She made sure to enjoy every moment of it.
"What are you thinking about?" Urban asked, adjusting his head above hers.
"I'm thinking about this divine month of late monsoon, how they-the dull skies brighten the deep waters. How the rivers rise from the past, how the moon will come silently to meet me after all of this is over." She told Urban all of her doubts in the moment, her brain had begun to work in it's own fogginess, however, it was still serene. Her present.
