Hortensebegu

I was sitting down in the chilly garden as the sunlight went down contemplating the plan that human existence amounts to little a lot more than the day-to-day stamina of mediocrity, rising ever more aggravated with the little that lifetime truly delivers, the constant barrage of backwardness, the uninterestingness of it all, when into the silence of dusk came the approaching cries of a hundred or more gulls, and I dropped the idea in preference.