Cold Pizza, Warm Beer

I woke up this morning and the world felt odd. The sun was so bright it almost burnt my retinas when my eyes opened. It was hot, it was still, it was silent. I heard nothing but silence. The way the sun lit everything it touched felt peculiar, the shadows it cast was uncanny of something from a surreal painting from centuries past. It was quiet. With each person I passed, their faces grew more and more unfamiliar, their voices strange, their gestures frightening. And the horizon that used to shut away within the walls of the distant buildings grew open and melted into the sky. The clouds were a warming mix of greys and lemon yellow, like a typical Vermeer. I woke up this morning and the world felt odd. For I knew the gates were never closed, yet I remained inside.

"The world is quiet here"