i dream of sitting at a cafe on lazy saturday morning, situated along a cobble stoned road. i see unfamiliar faces in an unfamiliar place yet comforting. i possess the knowledge that the layers of icey commitments from the big smoke are slowly melting away.
off to my left there's a small foot bridge leading into labyrinth of other interconnected cobble stoned streets. away from the cafe the scene twists and changes to another town, something familiar yet strangely odd the way the city greets you. you decide to save the sight seeing for later and make haste for your little concrete cottage perched a storey or two off the firmness of land. tree strewn streets with lightly greened leaves making way for spring.
you close your eyes and get thrown through the vortex for when you open your eyes you see a vast blue sea and giant hills with blue roofed white terraces situated at the height.
ahh... 35 degrees.
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