Yep, it sure feels like it.
Of weathered sheep and chiselled lightning, like a harmless stranger doing a jawdrop-inducing performance of a tap dance in the dark of the night.
Being geographically challenged and living at the opposite ends of this planet away from each other, like a well-used shoe sneakily stolen away by a sure-footed puppy.
Always unhelpfully vague and infuriatingly elusive, like a one-liner that reveals little else but the weakening smells of a cup of black coffee gone cold.
It may have the makings of a slow disaster, or the comings of a bitter heartache; but throwing your arms up in the air, be it in mock defiance, utter defeat or pure exasperation – whichever suits you best – will not make the skies turn blue again just for you.
… oh, and hi. So tell me who you are, for we might just become friends.