09-12-2022... Mystical love
The wood-burning stove does its best to cook the apples and heat the kitchen.
The old house, which usually smells muffy, now fills with the sweet smell of apples.
An old woman sits bent over at the kitchen table, peeling potatoes. She wrapped a black shawl around her narrow shoulders.
It's raining outside and the sky is dark. The rain against the fogged windows is almost meditative.
The little dog with brown spots, lies enough to sleep in front of the stove and does not care about the cold floor and rain.
She hums softly and pulls her shawl even closer around her, because a sudden cold gust of wind cools the kitchen for a while.
She stops humming and looks up.
The dog also looks up, and tripples to the window with a wagging tail. He puts his front legs against the wall and looks out the window and starts to squeak and bark incessantly.
She sjjjust him, and gets up slowly and stands next to the dog.
A dash of fog seems to touch the glass with elegant fingers. She touches the window with her fingers tenderly, as the fog slowly floats up to the dark distance.
She lovingly strows the dog over his orb and a tear rolls down her cheek.
