She starts when a loud crash rings from outside, and she peers out her window to see what happened. Apparently, a delivery boy had accidentally dropped a pitcher of wine, and she could smell the heat of the alcohol wafting upwards and into her room. A few unintelligible shouts are exchanged, and the boy takes off as if his master were standing right beside him, ready to box his ears.
From her window, she watches as the wine slowly spreads out unevenly, pointing out the direction of the earth’s contours. It stains the ground a dark red, and she tries to guess what kind of picture the wine is trying to draw.
It slowly reveals two eyes and an open mouth, and it reminds her of her son’s face when she caught him naked in the bathroom because he’d forgotten to lock the door. She blushes at the memory, and quickly returns to her work before she dwells on it for too long.
One day, the spilled wine will catch fire and spread through the town, and its flames will lick the heels of crying children. And on that day, their parents will pretend not to hear, and choose to run away without them.