Drifting throughts, carried on a light breeze. The taste of caf, the scent of rain. It is a summer morning in Citadel, and the year is 2020. We are broken, here in the future, but we are not down.
A silent need, unspoken even to myself, fills my thoughts as I drift to sleep.
Catching up with thoughts, after a healthy start to the day. Giving myself some time to listen to myself. And getting a haircut.