Today the sky looks aligned, inside as well as out. A sympathetic alignment of indistinct tones. The tones indistinctly sympathise with their allies. The cracks in the road are getting prominent, they're starting to protrude. The composition suffers as a result. The sea looks white, but an unfussy white - a white that never smelled like paint. Not an antiseptically odourless white, just a white that was never newly painted.
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