The weather that morning was exceptionally fine. It was my daily routine to step out into the backyard and have a smoke as soon as I woke up. My house was nestled in a small grove, and from the backyard, I could feel the crisp, clear air of the woods. It might seem strange to intentionally inhale smoke amidst such pure air, but the flavor was different compared to smoking indoors or in the city.
As I moved to walk around the yard as usual, I got caught in a spider’s web. People of old used to say that seeing a spider in the morning brings good luck. I tried to dismiss the annoyance by telling myself this as I brushed the silk away. However, there was only the web; the spider itself was nowhere to be found. I felt a flicker of irritation. Perhaps, after a string of bad luck, I was desperate to cling to the fortune promised by superstition.
Having cleared the web, I stepped further into the yard. I pulled out a cigarette and brought my lighter to it. Just then, a breeze picked up. The grove rustled as the leaves rubbed against each other, creating a distinct sound. I tilted my ear to listen. The impression of that sound changed every time I heard it. Sometimes it was an unsettling noise that seemed to drive people away; other times, it was a gentle, enveloping hum. I wondered if it depended on my mood. How would it sound this time? It was a sound that seemed to be whispering something—at once a warning and an encouragement. It held both a clamor that seemed to push me out and a stillness that allowed me to simply remain there.
With the unlit cigarette still in my mouth, I stood still for a while, listening intently. Then, I heard the cawing of a crow. A shadow falling on the ground approached me as it flew overhead. Sensing a bad omen, I stepped out of the shadow’s path. By shifting my position just slightly, I was now standing in direct sunlight. It was dazzling. As I raised my hand to shield my eyes, I realized the wind had stopped.
I took the cigarette from my mouth. For some reason, I no longer felt like smoking. I felt that if I lit it, something fragile would break. I tossed the cigarette into the bin and went back inside the house.
