She was used to it…
But now it was almost an unconscious habit.
The thick grey mist gave her a sense of calm that Saturday afternoon,
and off she drifted again;

into a mindless, empty space,
where that feeling of nothingness.. was everything —to her.

Then… something would bring her back,
Back to being herself,
Like an overlooked urban sculpture,
or an unloved and forgotten art object.

She could feel her heart stretch again..
and daydreaming began

With the sweet tingle of daydreaming,
She drifted into a world— where every step on a lifeless cement,
carried its own rhythmic beat and color

And where a distant future,
with a faint and lonely picture—was woven into the present.
By combining the two, she felt most at home.