Clutching the warmth and reassurance of the scented cup, the light unfolding outside, grey skies carrying drizzle angling down upon the wind. Beneath me I watch the day flow, figures moving along the street beneath umbrellas or taking shelter beneath the concrete of the mrt. Looking out further, caught up in the unfocussed greenery of the hill, caffeine levels rising but not yet balanced, the self unformed, a collection of impressions where the residue of the last week lingers unresolved.

Deciding that it's a morning to resume reading, clean the flat between chapters, find a soundtrack. Time enough for the distraction of clouds collected within the frame of the window, the changing greens of the hill and the blues and greys of the concrete and glass beyond as they drift in and out of view. No bad thing days like these I think as I press play and fill another cup.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UlFNy9iWrpE