On a cool and humid morning, a thick mist lingered outside. As it condensed on the leaves of the trees overhead, water droplets formed into drops. The trees magically rained, the skies sunny, albeit diffused overhead.
After morning tea, I walked to the shops to get a few things, including money from an ATM to pay for them. The neighbourhood general store has a little bit of everything. I brought home:
The ice cream cone didn't make it home.
On the way to and from the shops is what I call The Sad Park. The sign at its entrance, "SCHBS LTD. DEFENSE COLONY CHILDREN'S PARK", is the only part that isn't rusty, broken, or overgrown. You can walk through the rusted gate to get a little shade, or maybe slide down the uncomfortable-looking (yet elaborate) concrete slide, but the teeter-totter decays on the ground next to its pivot.
I can imagine 40 years ago; the screams and cheers of children playing here could be heard throughout the neighbourhood as the sun lowered in the sky.