In the afternoon, unloading furniture and other stuff from the truck. They used to be my sister's. But her family is about to leave Iran for another country. I didn't have any anticipation of what'd become of me, moving few heavy objects. Well, dead beat. So I figure I leave them without the final arrangement. Tired? I know the perfect spot to relax. There on the floor where I can feel the warmth of the setting sun dying away. Under the magical luminescence of the green lustre to my eyes' delight I slowly convince myself I can hear an unhurried rhythm relaxes my grip of the world. I don't remember when I lit the cigarette. Oh and I understand that for few minutes the spectres of unfortunate somehow dare not to interfere with this world. And to get the most out of it is there any ephemeral hubby? I guess. I check out gramophone records from the arrived fleet in the most prolonged manner.