Leaning Laundry and a Dried Chair

Seven in the morning, and the laundry hung along the rooftop railing had all leaned to one side. The white quilt was pressed right up to the edge, as if one more gust would send it over. Looking up at it, I suddenly thought: maybe that person, too, wanted to walk a little today. On the roof of the shops across the way, there was an abandoned chair. Its back had sagged, soaked with rain, but this morning it had dried in the sun. That chair must have been sitting in the rain until yesterday, and today it has dried enough to sit on. Where the sun has passed, there is always some warmth left behind by someone. Now that the wind has eased a little, the laundry on the railing has slowly found its place and hangs down again. On the chair across the way, the evening shade was beginning to settle.