Unfinished but done: The evening settling, pictures of the day slowly fading, conversations quiesced. Muted notifications, a sip from a slowly emptying glass, eyes following words that form lines and paragraphs, trying to decipher both rhythm and meaning and being not particularly good at both. Temporary cognitive limitations, a state of mind more than just slightly tired. Have a soft night wherever you are.

Almost out of the day again, and yet still following up on its late needs. Too: A quiet look at a quiet city. Not that much awake anymore. Watching log files float by. Collecting stars from within dense clouds, random sightings and always a pleasant find on a sky of mostly dark grey. Listening to the neighbours proceeding in their evening rituals in between kitchen, bedroom, evening news. Watching cigarettes glow on the balcony again. Resisting dreams for now, without really knowing why. Have a calm night everyone wherever you are.

A lot later again, all conversations cease, without conclusions, without the need to. Collecting things that are left open, in a mental bookshelf for further reference. Listening to night slowly covering the roofs of the houses, leaving silence where the day resounded, leaving softness on some rough edges. Waiting for stars once more, and for the stories in between constellations. Sleep well everyone wherever you are.