The sparrow's call was short. I started to take up again the words I'd heard earlier, and stopped. Where the sound ended, nothing remained. The sparrow soon flew away. I picked up the glass and took a sip of water. The water was lukewarm. The wire the sparrow had left swayed gently.
Drops remained on the pepper leaves in the pot by the window. As the sun rose, the light at the leaf tips was slowly drying.