Friday Blues: Indigo Skies

A snug kitchen, coloured in dark reds and cream. A square table, at which, sat a young-ish girl, doing her homework; or so I assumed. At the oven, a lady, with a dark blue apron around her waist and tagging her, as no other word would would describe it, a little boy. From the distance and from the look on his face, a little boy in 'question-mode'.

Two houses down, a cool, elegant sitting room. In the corner, a dark blue sofa. In another, a piano with the top lifted. An elegantly dressed white haired lady, book open on her lap, leaning over to look at something that was being shown to her by a white haired man who sat on the carpet near her feet. He wore red shorts.

I like watching people: doing things, relating to each other, feeling feelings, living lives, being real. Throwing tantrums, losing tempers, letting go, giving in, failing, succeeding, laughing at little attempts: to soar, or sometimes, just float. Maybe even shadows are images; ghosts, people; solitude, company; silence, meaningful; failure, an endeavour; zero, a number and a colour black.

The week that flew before I had noticed, or slid by cz it was very wet, with a major storm today. I've been thinking of a lot of things, but thats for another time.

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