"I see you're painting the sky. Are you an artist?" I can overhear a voice call to me while I'm desperately trying to capture the soft sight before me with my paints, drops of blue and black dripping off the edges of the paper.
I am so desperate in this moment, my heart feels ready to leap out of my throat but it would surely fall back in as fast as it had left, for I am just a limited human being.
"I'm not the one painting the sky," I said, my gaze fixated on the flock of pigeons flying before us, "They are."
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Date: 2025-06-24 12:15 am (UTC)I am so desperate in this moment, my heart feels ready to leap out of my throat but it would surely fall back in as fast as it had left, for I am just a limited human being.
"I'm not the one painting the sky," I said, my gaze fixated on the flock of pigeons flying before us, "They are."