Winter is coming, and it worries me. Winter is always that time of year that brings with it the cold, wet and dark. It doesn’t just fill the atmosphere around me, it finds its way into my soul, freezing it over.

I’m one of those people who are affected by the weather and seasons. Like Caulfield. I’m staring out at my window and all I can see is blackness, the window spotted with raindrops. If I let my vision drift out of focus, I can see myself reflected in an expanse of glass, alone.

Winter is cold, unforgiving and heartless. It chills me, makes me feel like all the happiness is sucked away by its howling winds. I’ve always hated winter. It brings the darkest skies and the darkest moods.

For the rest of the year, I can forget it exists. It’s that dank place in my brain I never like to visit. But it always catches up with me. I can feel it approaching, its fingers reaching, making every bad feeling multiply. Like icicles stretching out, it creates a thick layer of frost over my thoughts.

Most winters I shut my door, don’t look outside and curl up on my bed watching series after series after series on my laptop. I indulge in mindless tv so I can lose track of the thoughts that invade my mind like the rumbling grey clouds infecting the sky.

Winter is coming, and it worries me.


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