4 pm. Sun. At the window. Like it is waiting to enter. Only a reflection. Unreachable. Fool oneself. Deflect reality for a few minutes. Two trees where there is one. Like a painting on the façade. Cable wires look like a spacious web. Spiders are homeless. Everything swathed in gold. Unaffordable. Too shiny. Won’t last. Dusk descends. And then the dark. Await another day’s sun.