There he was

Walking down the street, he shrugged against the sharp gale. He pulled his hands from his pockets and flipped the collar of his coat up. It didn’t do much for comfort. The cutting cold made him put his hands back in his pockets as he grunted. Who would have thought… He mumbled as a biker…

Alleen maar woorden

De textuur was ruw. De geur was muf. Het was zwaar. Zwaarder dan ik me herinnerde. Ik had het eerder vast gehad. Jaren geleden, toen het er nog ongehavend uitzag. Toen het nog nieuw was. Of zo goed als. Het was toen al tweedehands. De spanning nam bezit van me. De herinneringen zorgden dat het…