Black flaws of the white...

There was once a short story about freedom, which was obstinately bitch slapping people in their faces every time they forgot how she tasted.

I don't know the whole story, since I am too tired to think of writing it now :-). Like from all good stories, all I need to remember is the main idea, so I won't waste time recreating the fantasy in between.

So since I whispered the magic word (=tired) and thanks to stalking my favourite stalker, let's just close them eyes and think of dreaming, while falling asleep on this:

...that created that damned grey.