The Long Winter Road

The first of December. The air is biting. The fog is thick and hovers over the city, adding the weight to our shoulders. The weight of winter. Of the holidays. We sip coffee. Red wine. Whiskey. We make elaborate dinners. Some kind of stew. Or go out to hear our friends play music. We fill the hours, dark past five, with activities to add some light. To lift the heavy blankets. To get us through until Spring.