"Imagine a city where graffiti wasn't illegal, a city where everybody drew whatever they liked. Where every street was awash with a million colours and little phrases. Where standing at a bus stop was never boring. A city that felt like a party where everyone was invited, not just the estate agents and barons of big business. Imagine a city like that and stop leaning against the wall - it's wet. “ - Banksy

it was bloody cold.

Thursday, January 19, 2017

Today was muggy. Apparently a storm was coming. This evening it arrived, briefly. Where moments before there had been blue, there was now a thick, heavy blanket of grey. It rumbled, opening up and drenching us. I love storms. They wake me up and seem to be telling me an adventure awaits. It was over within twenty minutes, and afterwards the smell of wet concrete wafted through the house. Beams of light bore through the clouds and suburbia was calm again.

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