Grey queues and anonymous boxes, the sound of Nina Simone drifting.
Freedom curtailed and permissions revoked, gale force winds and rain.
Dark grey skies, God painted a monotone for the urban crawl, everything is dark, foreboding, depressed.
"Birds flying high, you know how I feel
Sun in the sky, you know how I feel
Breeze driftin' on by, you know how I feel"...
Out of nowhere, a pillion with her man, brightly coloured arms in violent pink outstretched, soaring like an eagle, fingertips dancing with the joy of being free.
For a moment my soul connects and soars too.
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