the sun is hitting the yellow blinds and warming the room. color temperature, not degrees yet. someone is laughing in the garden. we did the first line after swearing not to, but that was a promise made when we were grumpy, doesn't count. did the second one because there were two hours left. did the third because there was one.
when the sun shines it reminds you this part of the city is full of flowers but most days they blend into the fray and no buildings are painted white. white things don't stay that way. I even saw a white dog yesterday, but covered in blue paint.
in two months someone rich will come recognize either of our potentials take us away to a seaside estate in Rio, with no fog, only sun, and a swimming pool built to mix seamless with the Pacific Ocean.
they'll pay us to sit and think, put down the genius obviously in us.
but likely we’ll just drink. pop pills rail lines and such.