Later again. Sundays fading. Neighbourhood giving up on the evening TV programme. Trying to find a few chords, but the piano and the self don't resonate today. There are hours like these. These hours to feel out of sync and tough with oneself. These hours, after all, to recall the usual mood and flow just with a new week dawning beyond the mental horizon and the boundary of night. Clothes, pens, paper, thoughts, mind sort of put in place, ready to pick whatever is needed a few dreams from now. Sleep safe everyone wherever you are.

#outerworld #concrete city #sunday evening deviations #the quiet under the skies