September

Elsewhere
2018-01-10 14:26:12 (UTC)

Evain.

It's a dull and tasteless morning hinted with a slight chill. The trees have no leaves, but the birds still sing; tweeting away at their merry melody.
How bitterly this morning rests on my notice; How pungent are the sounds that waft through my bedroom windows.
I am envious of the birds.
I'd gaily scream my heart song too if I had feathers that lifted me above the rain.




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