The sound of a saw from the workshops below.
The absence of a conversation just finished.
The sound of a door closing.
To the left of the church spire, the sun attempting to break through clouds.
Five pots of the windowsill, two of them are cacti.
8 books of reprinted horror comics on the bookshelf.
A half finished cup of tea.
My washing in the machine. I need to take it out.
The sound of some vehicle on the road.
