for marc, who couldn’t sleep and wanted me to paint him a picture.

so, it's summer. your skin feels warm in the still evening air. you're on a rooftop, sitting and looking west out over the city. across roofs, between aerials, your gaze moves upwards, outwards, to the horizon. you can feel a great freedom inside you from the sheer amount of sky above you. and in front of you, in a sky crossed with contrails, past which tiny white clouds are floating, the sun is setting. the sky's blue deepens the higher you lift your eyes, reminding you that out there, beyond the protection of the atmosphere, there is a universe full of potential – so vast it is almost beyond comprehension. and ahead, as the sun dips down, down behind the buildings, aglow with its fierce burning, the horizon blazes with molten gold.


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