En route to the the end of the first pillar of the beginning something I'm doing, I looked up at the cloudless sky. Except of a single bloated contrail from sitting in the air too long.
As the sky turned a light blue, akin the to GT40 debut color at Le mans. But the contrail turned into a light pink, and then a fluffy purple as the sun started to set. My knee was hurting, but my attention was still on the clouds. Then I farted quietly,
And while no one else was around, I was still embarrassed that I ruined my own train of thoughts with a mental fog focused on the flatulence, albeit my brain nor the air around me smelled vile.
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