dreaming of a warmer place

As we're hit with high velocity winds and blanketed by cumulus and cumulonimbus clouds the continent over, I find myself fantasising that the 25 bus is headed for somewhere warmer. A coast, say, of the sun. With hundreds of miles of sandy beaches and warm aquamarine aqua marines. With endless lazy hours spent on beige linen covered giant mattresses with a pipeline of chilled fresh fruit juices.  

I know that world exists. I've seen it with my own two eyes.



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