Two years ago this day. The death blow came from the back and it was inflicted by my husband. The kids and I were always (and continue to be) the sacrifice the Bros of God are willing to make to save and advance themselves. Lil added bonus content if you open the original post and scroll down to the end in the comment section for anyone who gives a crap. The kids and I no longer do. As for me and my house, it is Spring.
Winter is coming. Those damn Starks have been telling us so forever, but we grew tired of hearing it and dismissed them as crying wolf (insert GOT fan groan).
But winter is coming, and it’s coming for me, so I might as well go out with all the drama and flare of a butchered Jon Snow…bleeding out, lying motionless, fading to black.
In my physical world, it is autumn, which in central California means this morning was the first time my kids and I broke out a light sweater to walk to school with a predicted high temp of 79…may the gods, old and new, sustain us.
Autumn, however muted in this part of the country, still retains an element of anticipation and haunting beauty as a prelude to death; a transitional season leading us out of one extreme and into another. There’s a whisper in the (ever so slightly chilled) air…
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