A bicycle rolled by, the child riding it expertly, half pedaling, half pushed by another child running behind, half laughing, half gasping.
The warn morning breeze of spring greeted Ketan, as he looked out of the only window of his 2nd floor apartment. How long has it been? 22 springs? The same breeze, the same warmth. The same empty street below. He took a deep breath of the freshness that is spring.
The minutes whilst away, as he lay by the window gazing out to the barren road below. What passes through his mind, none can tell. It has been 22 years since he finally got a job and moved out of his parent's. And ever since, in this small two room apartment, alone, living a quiet life.
Maybe he is looking back to his life; two and twenty years ago, he might have had dreams.; maybe he is dreaming about his old dreams, dreams that never came to pass. Maybe he is thinking about life, and how many more springs he have to endure, lying there, by the window gazing out to the empty street, until he can meet the final embrace of mother earth.
The two boys were arguing whose turn it was on the over-sized bicycle.