5 minutes

There's something unnerving about the weather. I miss the sun. There's melancholy in the absence of light. The dark mornings, where my eyes refused to open, my body declined to move out of recumbent position, my soul struggles to greet the day.

There's no escape to this. Winter is looming. The trees wither away, painfully letting go of their covers. The birds are nowhere to be seen.

Then goes the people. Their sad look, the lines on their faces are getting heavier, their bodies recluse with misery wrapping themselves up with layers and layers of uncomfortable clothing. They seek refuge in confined spaces to generate heat.

Their isolation, looking out at windows outside of their world. From the tainted glass frames of their cramped spaces to the openings of virtual realities in the palm of their hand.

They look to the outside world, in desolation. They feel helpless as they attempt to connect to another soul with fruitless attempt. The need for contact to another human being...
They speak in unheard tones and intentions, their touch cannot be felt.

There's something unnerving about the weather. But then, that is something I cannot change.
Only my actions can.

Word Count: 199

* This was written uninterrupted 5 minutes as part of the workshop on academic writing.
The task is to write anything - to be in the write mode, keeping the flow and switching off the critical thinker.