commata

He had crouched down right next to one of the flowerbeds, not registering him or anything else as it seems. He's focused on the cat that had just rolled over on its back as he's gently petting it. The morning sun is shining, though it hasn't taken the nights cold completly just yet. [...]It's the morning sun that forces him to wake up, to realize that he's been dreaming once again. There's nothing warm about the sun now, close to the east border it rather seems to cool down the world and make his heart a little bit heavier once again.…