> the truth of thy hearts?

1pm. the rain is defeaning. the view outside my window is bathed in a sparse milky white, tints of greeh hues speckle the landscape and the skies are in a dull whitegrey, an empty aged canvas waiting to be painted-on.the warm leftover carlsberg sits by my tableside; a welcomed mind-dulling reprieve the night before, now a dull liquid, bubbles afloat and drifting aimlessly ... and my thoughs