je ne me sens pas bien
Actually I feel okay, all things considered. Just a bit of Sunday evening overindulgence, which is as it should be.
Storms. Sirens. Profiteroles. Pass the Pigs. Peppermint tea.
I am actually too unconfortable to write much more.
This is the sky from a laptop screen. There are some shoes hanging from the telephone wires. I think that’s supposed to be a sign that a drug dealer lives nearby. That might be an urban myth, though. I have never thought to prove it.
Il pleut suivant.
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