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“The sky reached into the past and into obscurity, streaked with strips of cloud like marks left by a tired finger. The light leaking between the clouds was touched with purples, gentle reds and heavy blues. If you looked far up enough, you could see the wind blowing. It almost felt as if we could touch this layer wrapped around the world, if we just stuck out our hands. It showed its colors like a melody that could never be repeated.” — Mieko Kawakami
The sky reached into the past and into obscurity, streaked with strips of cloud like marks left by a tired finger. The light leaking between the clouds was touched with purples, gentle reds and heavy blues. If you looked far up enough, you could see the wind blowing. It almost felt as if we could touch this layer wrapped around the world, if we just stuck out our hands. It showed its colors like a melody that could never be repeated.