The sun shows up late these January mornings. Three weeks past the longest night and it still feels like the days quicken into the gloaming and struggle to rematerialise. My head feels grey and it's almost 8am by the time I rouse myself with coffee and shuffle blearily out the door. It’s raining.
Wren
Wren
Wren
The sun shows up late these January mornings. Three weeks past the longest night and it still feels like the days quicken into the gloaming and struggle to rematerialise. My head feels grey and it's almost 8am by the time I rouse myself with coffee and shuffle blearily out the door. It’s raining.