6pm, behind closed blinds. Waiting for a calm wind, a cool rain. The sound of the late city, dense and noisy. Hills and the village left far behind, it feels like the morning is a whole world away. Pouring a cold glass aga,unsure whether this is a good idea - unsure, too, if not doing would be, either. Reading a few pages into piling books, giving up as words don't behave and too much faulty context sneaks into between the lines. Weekend slowly disappearing with the sun.