Words

Good Evening,

Here I am, wittering on again, as this dark dull day comes to its long-awaited close. The Sun has gone to bed, the Moon has woken early for its night shift, as it, too is feeling the pinch in these hard, bitterly cold days. Yet I sit here, hair still wet from a painfully hot shower, silk pyjamas cold and dry, allowing the heat to drain from my body as fast as it wishes, however reluctant t may seem. It begins to snow, and the snow seems black through the windows, their blinds still rolled up and condensation trickling across the pane of glass. The lamp's glow is an orange yellow, like the balloon I got at my school's disco, years ago when I was young and careless of what went on outside of my small bubble of joy.
The day itself has been uneventful, but my mind has been away with the stories I have read and finished. Only to make a bowl of Ready Brek did I pause, and to take the dog for a walk. I stopped to help make Spaghetti Carbornara, ate what was left of the Magic Lemon Pudding, finished my book and went for a shower. During this time the weather was arguing within itself on hail, rain, frost or snow. In the end it chose all of them.

Lady Solacia x