I never saw a man who looked with such a wistful eye upon that little tint of blue which prisoners call the #sky.
The #sky grew darker painted blue on blue one stroke at a time into deeper and deeper shades of night.
I never saw a man who looked with such a wistful eye upon that little tint of blue which prisoners call the #sky.
The #sky grew darker painted blue on blue one stroke at a time into deeper and deeper shades of night.