Captivated by the clouds as I walked across to work this morning. Not sure why. They seemed etched with unusual precision against the blue beyond. For a few moments I was outside myself. And simultaneously I realised how very noisy the silence was, or, rather, wasn't. Discordant birdsong and insectile chirring.
I suppose it's like this every morning, and, locked into the prison of the self, I just don't notice. Nice to be set free, if only on probation.
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