Incessant wind, howling over exterior walls. Treetop branches bent to cruel angles, don’t fall. Passing car.. heavy beat… otherwise the street is bare, save for the eerie atmosphere. Continue reading
Love the bay like this. Stone cold, blue-grey watercolour day. Sea, brushed by wind, smiles with foamy grin, “That’s fine.” Closer to shore, lone water-bird flies low across the blue, drawing her momentary lines. Nothing but time. Nothing but time.