Breaking breezy...
The door slams with a bang. The thunderclouds from the outside also prevail inside. She is angry, at us, because we do not understand her, furious at everything and everyone who ignores her good intentions, but especially furious at the situation. She wants to get out without any problems, she's more than tired of it. Yeah, who doesn't.
We crave massively for terraces, finally being able to enjoy freely again, finally sun, as sun is intended. Then we can raid on people who take the best tables. Then we can grumble to each other that the ministry here is abominable. Then we can go on because we have to wait so long for our ordered drinks. Then we can scold if the parasol does not open, the parasol that should protect against the sun...
The sun... that we long for so much.
