Sunday afternoon

The rain had ended. Sun had been coming out intermittently during the day. Heavy drops fell from the bushes. The waning light turned slate grey, with a blue tint. The stone and brick walls glowed almost electric in these colours. The walk across the bridge had been lit by rainy sun, pearly grey clouds. It was an eerie, almost derelict feel on the bridge from half-empty suburb to half-empty suburb, across a dirty blue-grey river. And so the short day waned.

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