WINTER SLEEP
The sun slowly sets below the western horizon and a cool wind creeps up, almost as if on cue. It creeps up over the trees and blasts down to the snow dusted earth. On night's like tonight, you can tell that the cool afternoon is going to settle into a bone numbing iciness in no time. The further the sun sets, the further the mercury falls.
You can hear the moaning roar of the wind ripping through the night. It is a fierce and sorrowful sound, a portent of the long days of darkness that are about to come.
I step into my home and close the door tight behind me. It is still early in the season at this point, but that doesn't mean that dread can't already settle in. Winter has its merits of course. The crystal snowflakes drifting in the air, the playful snowmen sculpted by the hands of amateur artists, tobogganing. There is much to enjoy in winter, but there is also the bone numbing cold. That is what I am rebelling against at this particular moment.
I stand in my foyer, and I can already hear the wailing wind outside. It is a pitiful sound, but one filled with ferocious contempt.
I head upstairs and change into my pyjamas. It is not something I normally would do immediately after work, but today, it is the only thing that appeals to me. I think that a little later I might indulge in a nice, spicy soup, and maybe a BLT sandwich to fill the gaps, but for now, all I want to do is curl up under a blanket and watch some television.
Better still, I might throw on a movie. It has been a while since I have been able to catch up.
I shuffle down the stairs and and settle onto the couch. These shortened days and already exhausting me.
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