The chalky sky is bright. Hints of blue hide in that whiteness, but most times all one sees is gray.
Branches in a cluster of trees are a mess of thread: in all directions they point with their dry brown, chalk color. They look sharp and brittle even before one touches them.
In a classroom some years ago there were math problems on a board which I copied sleepily into my book. The artifice of white on dark in order to create the visible might have been a consideration then – all I really wanted was to leave class.
Now I want to learn to read the problem. The ethereal blue, the brittle, finger-like branches – they’re juxtaposed and it feels like something should be between them. Something about the setup isn’t quite right, but it might be years before I figure out what.