Tag: the best season


This time of year I am usually six feet deep in my own melancholy. Buried heavily under the burden of memory, of remorse, of guilt, of all the confusion that comes with it. I’m probably jinxing myself, if you believe in that sort of thing. I do. Of course I do. I told a friend…

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The weather is cold and rainy and dark. Today the wind whipped at my face and my hair— stung my arms. Froze my nose. This has always been my favorite time. This season has always belonged to me.

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