Friday, March 11, 2016 - (150 w.)
The living room at the back of the house offers a great view on the meadows. The room's large enough to contain rows of couches next to each other, on both sides. Henk sits on one of the other couches accross me.
Henk says that he feels that he needs to come over to me. It used to be that I told him what to do, or what we would do. Well, I guess I'm no longer doing this. He seems ready to add some initiative on his own, move my way, but doesn't have any ideas yet.
The clouds draw my attention. They start moving in unusual ways, towards us, making figures and generally moving at a speed that suggests that time has speeded up 10-20 times.
How do I feel about this? I know others might be frightened. I'm not. It's mostly just weird. Does it help that I'm sitting inside, looking outside? Nope. I'm simply fine with this.
Henk's a friend who I would go to if I wanted to do something. He'd always agree.
What more could the part about clouds mean? They were nice white fluffy clouds, demonstrating an aliveness. They also managed to descend to almost ground floor window level, at least that's how it looked. Perhaps it was more like tree top level, but even that is remarkably low to the ground.
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