Finally the evening is here.
It feels a bit dusty, I suppose.
A mother’s day sunday in late autumn.
And while I have been looking forward to getting into a warm shower all afternoon, there is something morbid about this wintry evening now.
I was waiting until I went on my after dinner walk.
And now, something makes me hesitate.
The memory of dark, empty, country streets.
Maybe with age, our souls open up to let more melancholy in.
Just wanting to measure progress.