Window

Far behind my head, next to an old fire place, hangs the only picture in my room. I have bought it along time ago, I believe it was ner christmas for I have an eerie memory of that time, like a taste of filthy snow and motor oil. It lies next to the only window in my place. In this room there seems to be no inside and outside for the wind blows strong in this parts of the earth and the pines are a wall to it`s strengh but torture for the ears. But on this window you can feel, if you don´t look but only stare at the sun reflected on the tv, that you are somewhere else.