It must be the combination of humidity and airconditioned air. All of the parkett tiles on the floor make every step like walking on egg shells. Crackly, crackly, crack. The flowers on the table are still alive, despite of their water being a bit foggy. The wild garden by my window has new light green tips, telling me that somebody grew again, or that everybody grew.
I do not feel as if I grew or kept myself alive very well.
Yes, the water in my vase of the day appears to be foggy. again...