I stick my head out of the window of the car and take a deep breath, closing my eyes. Behind my eyelids, I feel and see the warm light of the sun. When I open them, I see birds flying high. The wind drifts by in slow, lazy sweeps, bringing along with it the scent of greenery and dense vegetation.
It’s a beautiful day.
We turn a corner and leave the bumpy path behind; slipping onto smoother road, and heading further away from the village. The chirping of the birds and the rustling of the trees slowly fade away; the glare of the sun getting harsher.
We’d left the woods behind, and the mountains have been swallowed by fog and distance.
I slip my head back into the car and sigh. It’s awfully silent inside, and it feels as if I can cut —even with a blunt knife, the tension simmering densely
