I went down
to sit by the lake for a while. The sky was calm and slowly shifting colour,
but the water, the water was upset. Black edges broke off the baby blue and
soft pinks.
The leafs
and the branches on the trees made little movements, playing with the wind. It
was cold. It was very cold. My fingers stiffened almost instantly as soon as they
poked their tips out of the sleeves. I had to stop the writing several times to
rub them against each other. I took a couple of sips of the tea I had brought
with me and looked out over the lake where the swans swam close to the edges in
hope for a piece of bread. People enjoyed feeding them, and they enjoyed the free
feast.
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