019: Even Though It All Went Wrong
There's a flame flickering in the fireplace. It's small, mostly blue and smokey, grasping at a piece of wood that's just a little too damp. I hang the turtlenecks in front of it, as though it'll make that much of a change. They'll still take a couple of days to dry.
Outside it's snowing.
I search my cupboards for something edible, and find a half-eaten package of Bourbon biscuits. I make a cup of Yorkshire tea with milk, and curl up under a blanket on the sofa.
It's still snowing outside.
I eat a biscuit and rest my head against the window. The radio crackles in the kitchen. The snow's disrupting the signal. When the signal returns, the radio's playing the last verse of The Canadian Tenors' cover of 'Hallelujah'. I sing along, softly, under my breath. Then they switch to another update on the virus. I get up and turn it off. There's no aim to this anymore.
Written by: Katrine H.
Outside it's snowing.
I search my cupboards for something edible, and find a half-eaten package of Bourbon biscuits. I make a cup of Yorkshire tea with milk, and curl up under a blanket on the sofa.
It's still snowing outside.
I eat a biscuit and rest my head against the window. The radio crackles in the kitchen. The snow's disrupting the signal. When the signal returns, the radio's playing the last verse of The Canadian Tenors' cover of 'Hallelujah'. I sing along, softly, under my breath. Then they switch to another update on the virus. I get up and turn it off. There's no aim to this anymore.
Written by: Katrine H.
Comments
Post a Comment