A rainbow pressed itself against the hills, in front of the church, where the river runs along the via Hemingway. It's fun to watch the hills here. Like a giant sleeping princess, slowly jeweling herself as the evening lights flicker on, draped in pinks and violets.
Thoughts are like the river sometimes. Clear and cool, calm. But always moving. So fast. Unyielding. Sometimes, if you're lucky, a broken branch catches in the reeds. Long enough for you to realize it may indeed be only a branch, but there are a few remaining leaves. It's worth holding onto.