It's winter, the quietest season. You take the opportunity to stroll through the streets. You know them by heart.

You feel the snow falling on your head, it's a pleasant feeling. But when you pass by a wall you smell a... paint? You put your hand on it, you're curious

“Hey, it’s not dry, don’t touch it…” a boy’s voice tells you

You remove your hand, you feel the paint on your fingers, then you turn towards the boy, to 'look' at him with your blind eyes.

“Oh uh… Sorry" he tells