Beyond dusk once more. Training ones own ability to tell the current time from listening to the chatter and music and noises of the tired yet still awake neighbourhood, the sound of dishes and late dinners and bottles and the opening, closing of balcony doors, to the street, to the backyards, to the darkness that feels like just floating in with the wind once more, embracing, indifferent, here because it just has to be this way. Sunday evening rituals. Sunday evening mood. The usual flow. Have a soft night wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #sunday evening #later that day later that night #stories of technology and temporary fixes

Marga Xeyat Ⓐ hat dies geteilt.