It's friday night...

and what are you doing?

It's a cold tonight in Sydney. I wonder if you still remember the nights here.

The puffs of your warm breathes fascinates me to no end. Does it still do for you as well?

I remember the wet nights that often accompanies spring's entrance, do the falling rain still makes you look out the window?

The distant sounds of the traffic, ever unceasing, the infrequent stillness of the night, broken by the screams of piercing sirens. Do you still hear them often?

The wet sounds emmanting from every step pounding on the uneven pavement, and the cold biting winds, harshly tells me that Spring is coming.

Spring is coming. It is Friday night, and what are you doing?