For Ellen, who didn't survive the winter.

Every so often a bit of music comes along. It sort of just fits. Slots right into a little gap somewhere in your soul. For the most part it means nothing. But there's a phrase, or a few bars of sound, that just draw the entire world out in front of your eyes in the colours of your dreams.

Apologies like the birds in the sky

And even they are falling like the tears in my eyes

Time and place, I suppose. Or a book. And sometimes you remember a bit of the feeling later. A shadow, an afterglow. And sometimes there's not even that.

Currently: darkness outside, is summer over then?
Listening to: Poliça - Amongster