Sunday, June 23, 2013

Grey.

This morning the air hung ominous. 

The sun was up. The streets bare. And the sky loomed grey and opaque.

The palms and neighboring trees rustled in the strong wind. A wind pushing me backwards with each forward step I took. Forcing me back. Forcing me home.

"Go back to bed," it beckoned.

And all I wanted to do was comply.

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