Looking Out

As I sit, eating the puff that was given to me, I look at the huge grilled, netted window; It's 615pm.  The rain coming to an end, the sun made a guest-appearance for the evening, indicating the last life it had for the day. It shined lazily trying to complete a formality. The sky was not all grey and hues of pink streaked it. 

Bored, I looked out and I don’t know if the tree was always like that or whether the lime green leaves just happened to pop out amidst the color variation, but it seemed like a familiar setting.

 A puppet setting. When I was a kid I used to watch shows that had this kind of setting. 

The grey and pink sky looking velvety and the tree looking like it was made of clay. It seemed unrealistic... 

Just a stare at the limited scenery I had in front of me took me to a moment I rarely bring back, except when my mum talks about them. I’m sure she missed the younger, more innocent me.  

I always seem to drift away to long lost thoughts when I’m occupied with subservient assignments. Makes me feel like I’m doing something sensible, something that will lead to another blog at least, although I shouldn't. Yet I am, and I write, although stacks of documents in front of me wait to be checked.

 My colleague passes from behind to take a few things and I quickly change back to the word screen the second he turns his back. 

 Trying for a proper ending to this sudden post, I think. I can’t manage to write a befitting ending to it. Maybe I should just end it as abruptly as I started it.