'Oh. '

Seeming to wake from a week of walking in your sleep, you scan the sky which looks to have skipped most of the day, leaving an evening growing greyer and growling as clouds in troubled conference clash over what may have to end in lime trees lit by the lick of lightning, and former theoretical calamities doing their actualization dance to the bass boom bringing a burst of rain. Still, dreams we are also drenched in may be drawn out of possibilities' half light and break through the clouds like the sun.
'Do you realise you're on private property? '