The swirling grey, elephant skin sky drowning the city in a wintry abyss seemed less concentrated. Veins of sunshine made it appear a finished puzzle, the freshly compressed corners were satisfying. What was driving this? Was there actual warmth to follow? I stared wholly into the reflection on my phone confused albeit delighted. A gust of paralyzing wind sent me retreating further into the depths of my coat. Recoiling and finding brief sanctuary in the intricate threads of the fabric. I clicked the top button to check the time and saw something that wasn’t there before.
A photograph of pure nonchalance. Strangely enough on an airplane which is usually synonymous with despair. I could see the wrinkles and booze stains even through the glossy phone screen. I could smell the cigarettes. It appeared a simpler time, or perhaps just one that gave less of a shit. Free from the confines of relentless broadcasting and sensory overload. I remembered that it was the album art of an instrumental album I had downloaded the previous night, Jetlag.