Sea. Birds. Greyscale skies.
A melancholy screech from a seagull. Some pitiful object that she wishes she could grab…
It felt like being in a crowded parking lot, when someone way up ahead is waiting for that choice spot. No one can move in or out. Or forward.
I don't know I don't know what you think of me,Care to know me, this melancholy,If I ever make a fragment of your thoughtsA…