Thoughts

It was a frigid and breezy winter while in my village cottage, with a fire in the fireplace, it was so cozy and warm, that even drowsiness set in.

The delicious smell of boiled cabbage soup still lingered, as these old memories, in my thoughts.

 

Grandpa hung the flitch outside, by the kitchen window, and I, quite young at that time, having not experienced any of life’s worries yet, looked out the window. 

The titmouse, the lonely but proud ravens, and the bullfinches, with red bellies like the old witch’s poisoned apple from an old fairy tale, pecked the meat, savoring each of their bites.

 

As I observed the scenery, I kept reminding myself, that the suffering of some, becomes a source of happiness for others. While the famished birds were looking for a hearty meal, on frosty time, a petite child smiled, enjoying the attraction in front of her.

 

Everyone relies on something. That eventually will be the main cause of our absurd deaths.