Alone.
Free.
Under a timid English sun that does not dare proclaim its preeminence over the clouds.
I should learn from that, but somehow I do not.
Green fire on my retinas, I take the liberty to sit upon the grass.
Just because.
A perfect moment of peace and freedom. Just a moment of surcease. Never mind my empty pockets or other worries.
Just here.
Just now.
The illegal immigrants are sailing across the sky, sure in their knowledge that their maps do not have any of our stupid lines.
And I sit.
And watch.
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