Today in London it feels like the sun gifts us with its presence.
The air is as snow without footprint.
The River Thames wears a regal blue coat, the water slows its running down to a stroll and lies down at the banks to gaze at the beaming brilliance above.
The lid’s come off, the spider’s crawled out the jar and up the hairy forearm of the night into its pit, forgotten.
Free, awake and arrived, the day watches the people with its eye, teaming with pride,
The children of the light.
the3rdpersonstory 
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