Today, as I started walking on the forest road, I heard sounds of flakes and snow. I moved past trees, planks, and weeds to escape the noise but failed.
As I moved past loads of trees, gathering and looking at me in silence while I was rushing past each with a heavy lump in my heart. The lump won't go away. It stood still in the corner of my heart, telling me I needed to run some more, move past some more trees to reach my destination.
I slowed down.
A little bit.
It was the first time I saw the sun in nearly 44 days. The sun was dangling in the sky. I looked at the sun, thinking how beautifully distracting it is in winter noons. But I quickly remembered where I wanted myself to be.
A little while after walking, I reached the letterbox I was searching for. My heart stopped shivering. I opened the letterbox and pulled out some mails I used to write in my childhood, seeking help from God.
I quickly folded those letters and kept them in my hoodie's pocket. Though it made me feel like a big kangaroo, folding 20 email letters wasn't easy.
I checked for more mails if I'd accidentally skipped them, but I didn't. It was nearly 21 emails. I took those mails into my shelter and returned to the way I came from.
But one thing was never the same: the way the sun, and I exchanged looks with each other this winter noon made me feel like there's still hope for a better summer.