Ever since my son's return, it's been hard for me to sleep. I didn't speak to him the day of the newspaper crisis and I hadn't seen him since. I've come to wonder if he was just my imagination. As these persisting thoughts have continued to swell my brain, the 12 hours of sleep I had endured last night seemed surreal. I was elated to learn that I had slept through the night and when I looked out the window, my day became even better. White flurries swiftly glided through the air before they landed on the snow infested ground. I loved the cold. When it was cold outside I could cozy up in my battered lounge chair, next to the fire place, and read. And not feel guilty if that's the only thing I do all day. Before I got the free place ready, I wandered to the kitchen to make a cup of coffee, coming to the realization I had run out the day before. That's fine I thought to myself, I will go into town and grab some. There was only one cafe open in the whole town ...
“Better never means better for everyone... It always means worse, for some.” -Margaret Atwood