Sundays equals bed. A mixture of blankets falling down with no particular sense. Random junk food & bits of fruit usually become the diet of the day.
Sundays equals an afternoon cigarrete. Once the hangover abandon us there’s nothing better than to feel a mix of wind & smoke traveling through our wild hair.
Sundays are not thinking days. So dense stuff please leave them for another day. About Sundays. Enjoy. ❤ SS.
& More