Silver grey sky is untouched by colors. In the early hours of morning vaguely visible silhouettes are misleading. Quiet is consuming the surroundings immersing them in a surrealistic flow of sounds and smells that'll all seize to exist with the first rays of sun obligingly vanishing into the air. Holding on to a delicate whisper murmuring in your ear you wish for the time to slow and let you breathe not burdened with anticipation or hope. It's a dream that only lives for a moment balancing on the edge of the night, twisting the frame into unfamiliar shapes readying itself for another day.