The grey sky was a positive incarnation of the opaque dullness which seemed to stifle his soul of late, and from which he could not draw the will to alter these psychological/emotional, etc conditions so unpropitious to a healthy sense of well-being in the seat of his consciousness which, if we take the liberty of saying is located anywhere, was in his head.
"This sky is a metaphysical entity," he said to his co-pedestrian colleague.
"A metaphysical entity? I suppose it is. Spengler's Decline of the West comes to mind. You know, civilisations as organic entities which live and die, and from the compost heap of one civilisation's death arises another."
"Yes, that is interesting. Have you read Hegel?"
"You're referring to the unfolding of time as a historical process programmed by God to lead in an upward curve towards a great heavenly future. This, you will understand, is, for the sake of brevity, a somewhat barbarous rendering of Hegel."
"Yes, that is what I was intimating."
"Though to return to the sky as analogy or even metaphysical entity, and remember life can be multi-layered in its meanings, if this goodly firmament were to mirror Hegel's hypothesis then there should be a little more sun peering through the clouds, don't you think?"
"But naturally. And we should be approaching the sun rather than it behind our backs."
"Undoubtedly. Though remember a setting sun in one corner of the earth is a rising one in another."
"Most certainly. And I am sure our friend Spengler would approve."
The friends were suddenly confronted by two rather large gentlemen with very short hair.
"Have you got our money, assholes?"
"You'll get your money."
"I know we will. You got till tomorrow night. And by the way, that Joyce book you lent me - Ulysees..."
"What about it?"
"It's shit."
“It’s not to everyone’s tastes, I suppose.”
