Pancakes by the Window

The sky is in mourning and the stars blink with pity; everything is wrong in this city. A clean gentle breeze blows through my open window and with it, the sounds of honking horns, glass bottles shattering-probably in the grip of some fool shouting at his lover for her infidelity. Funny how these fluffy pillows taste the best in chaos.

©privatethoughtsmadepublic. 2016.

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