Denis27 life is running and all bright things stay so far behind...\
Today the morning wasn’t as jolly as usual spring one. Heavy dark grey clouds were thickening in the sky and seemed so low the one could feel that he might almost touch them from the roof of a tall building. Looking like made of lead in their weight and gloomy colour they however were putting this assumption in a doubt by their fast movement caused by a sullen wind. The river wasn’t as calm as usual and today its mirror-like surface was broken by lots of small waves. Everything was grey this morning even clothes of people walking on a street and getting round the puddles.
Could that day be a source of inspiration?