Body Scan :: Place Scan

The walls are cold
The floor is cold, and coldness is somehow hinted by its shade of cool grey.

Wind is blowing. Large white clouds are drifting quickly across the sky.
The willows are bending down into the water,
Their yellow, fragile braches pouring over the restless surface of the pond.

Cars are zooming, wind is blowing;
Yet I could not hear any of these sounds,
Because I can only hear people's talking.

The air is cold, but not fresh.

The heater is keeping my thighs warm.
My body is still cold.
The window is icy.

My mind is fussy, yet my body is refreshed.
I don't know if I am happy about that.