It’s raining in my little corner of the world, and though it doesn’t matter, though the rest of the world moves on, in my little corner time has stopped. Roads lie empty, houses are lit up as though it weren’t 8am and the distant brontide is music to our ears.
For us, it is a time for warm beds and blankets and copious amounts of tea, for cake and friends and family, for laughter and stories and secretly penned desires. For romance. There must be those who hate the rain, but I cannot. It only ever serves to remind one of and create the the happiest of times.
"Sometimes I am so alone that I talk to cats. I’m allergic to cats: it’s sub-concious suicide. "