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January 24, 2021
It's raining, the quiet type that you'll only know is there once you step outside. It's been too cold for about a week now. My mother taught me to store loads of soup for days like these. I like that she did: Soup is good, soup is filling, soup is uncomplicated. From my bedroom window I can see a mountain range, forlorn and tired, perhaps waiting for the sun. Once the sun comes, we then wish for rain. We can't just appreciate what we have, there always has to be something missing. Some days are perfect though, maybe today is.