Ever seen a busker play tunes that dance but the crowd just nods along, lost in their own reverie? Heard it before? It rings true somewhere.
Nothing like a rainy afternoon, sipping something warm while the trees softly yawn against a gloomy sky. Sometimes you just know, the wind's insistence feels like it carries tales from the ocean. Hypothetically speaking...
Grab a seat and wait. That's all. It's the kind of day where portents linger gently, almost apologetically. Learn more or hear less, your choice.
In dreams, it often rains confetti and the serious people look annoyed.