|Posted on February 18, 2021 at 3:45 AM|
#FireHorsesQuotes 92: “A panel-beaten sky pressed down as I stomped, swarms of doubt buzzing in my head, afraid and lonely like a cloud, but not pristine, white and fluffy – dense, electric, yet empty. Manchester’s Victorian grandeur and tattered facades meant nothing to me; relics of a bygone age. I was only vaguely aware of the emptiness of these streets, allowing their gravity to deflect and guide me south.”
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