When the fog is so thick, even the Magpies have nothing to say.

Anyway, "the revolution"!

It was absolutely silent, a freezing cold that cut right through you... Without even thinking, fast steps eagerly ate up the footpath. Just ahead, a blurry silhouette—yet with perfect lines, caught by the sunbeams. A sweet scent fills the air. A few more metres and the shape comes into focus.

Right then: a cut!

Me, standing right there in front of your eyes. You smile!

I think we were buried deep in flowers. That smell again. It felt like one of those late afternoons, during one of those intense, bright springs. We blew into the air, pouring the whole intensity of our souls out into the world. It was colourful, light, sublime... I don't know... A game of making ourselves forget about time. Right there, in that moment, nothing else existed except our bodies and a constant joy.

As eternal as the endless song playing on loop, fixed like a drawing on the wall of the world.

Scribbles, flavours, and Mōrena!

I've just woken up!

A sigh, a few memories, a deep ache of longing, and a glass of water.