The deserted blue sky and the storm can not dilute that gray thick cut open the window frame.
Even the orange building opposite, diagonal wrought by rain, it is a tone on and stands between the asphalt and the clouds, how naked and indifferent to the vagaries of weather.
to look good all forms of the city stand out more vigorously, as if to underline their strength in this season that is already fading in the sun surprisingly warm. The early morning air
grabs my bare hands and accelerates the pace.
They mowed the lawns that are on the road as soon as I leave the house are greeted by the scent of grass, warm and unexpected.
a low note and warm, almost out of place and no new air smells of these days I already freeze my face.
At night I wake up repeatedly uncovering shrunk in some ridiculous position because of the cold I feel. The only
sheet is no longer enough, so a little while ago I resigned myself to recall the light wool blanket that I had stored at the highest point of the cabinet. Among
towels and duvet.
Between the time when I put it up there today.
In between, there is a summer past.
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