When I woke up it was snowing outside. Part of me had forgetten that it was winter. The other part longed for the snow like it was a lost lover, an old friend waiting to be embraced. I didn’t embrace it. Instead, I went downstairs, warmed up the kettle for some coca and sat and watched the world be overtaken by purity.
Unique and delicate purity. I wondered what it would look like if it snowed in the house. How the furniture would look blanketed in frozen water. It would ruin the carpets. Still, how beautiful it would be everything covered in white- to start again in the spring. And me, what of me? Can the snowfall cleanse me too? Will I wake up in the spring a different person? Better, perhaps, changed?
I thought not, and the kettle was boiling anyway.


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