it is grey and humid. nothing can be heard but the wind and the cars passing by that won't stop. clouds that travel, changing shapes to vanish. and here I am, standing on this road, waiting for the cloud that will take me back home.
gris, húmedo. sólo se escuchan el viento y los autos que pasan para no detenerse. nubes que viajan, que se transforman para desvanecerse. y yo acá, varada en este camino, esperando por esa nube que me llevará de vuelta a casa.
