Green.
There is something about the Northern European sky that I recognise in a spiky, insistent and forceful lime green. The first frosty morning in the long Summer, when you wake up and feel winter already seeping in through the cracks in the floor. Pinching your nose. Lighting a cigarette with fingers that are just that little bit stiffer than they were just a couple of hours earlier. And a feeling that something between you and that other person has shifted and it in fact is not going to be the same ever again. Summer’s almost gone, but not quite yet.
There is something about the Northern European sky that I recognise in a spiky, insistent and forceful lime green. The first frosty morning in the long Summer, when you wake up and feel winter already seeping in through the cracks in the floor. Pinching your nose. Lighting a cigarette with fingers that are just that little bit stiffer than they were just a couple of hours earlier. And a feeling that something between you and that other person has shifted and it in fact is not going to be the same ever again. Summer’s almost gone, but not quite yet.
