How can I prepare for the end? It's certainly not about muscling through it; it's more subtle than that; it's softer. A mixture of fear and love and patience and disappointment swirl on this winter's gale. The wind goes bone-deep and sends the shivers, and frozen tears, and the finality of seasonal death through my body. There is no blanket that can keep me warm. No coat that can ward this off. No way to suss out more heat or light. The darkness is coming too. The day shrinking into a mere collection of minutes.
The fire next time… It takes two beers to remember now, and three more to forget.