(no subject)

It is a misty day, the kind where the hero in a novel walks across the desolate moor in some specific private business, while birds cry to each other in a forlorn way.
A bleak sun is trying to bring some brightness from behind the clouds into the afternoon, but only manages to paint the sky in the colour of tobacco smoke.

And last night I dreamed about my old cat(  Nisse )

And now I must go study, I'm at northernveil's, and she's starting to give me the stern look...