outwait outrun outwit





TALES OF AN ORANGEPEELER

an archive of pleasures, wounds, sublimations
& other curiosities :: elsewhere :: profile


04.10.13

When rain arrives after days and days of dry weather, I am the only human in Ireland who sighs with relief. The world is softer in the wet. Colors deepen. Traffic slows and whispers. You're not waiting anymore, not waiting for rain. Instead you hum to yourself as you work, immersed in silver patter. Time for tea and buttered toast with gooseberry jam.







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