Day Number 29…
Weekend roadsters chasing the storm.
Solace exists within reach, because most do not stand alone. They reflect a confidence of sorts. A tribute of duration decades over, where summer suns expose the vulnerable.
Little house on the weary. Was potential granted under bare skies where winds wave between shy stems of near blonde atop trembling terrain void of courtesy, omitted of condensation? Impressions are questionable, conclusions fanciful. This is the long sigh.