Ode To A Winter Morning.

Frost subdues the land each night as I sleep at the moment. It’s there every morning when I rise, glinting in a way that makes it seem as if winter is trying to tempt me to stay inside rather than to venture out. So far it hasn’t worked – not when I have an eager, thirteen year old puppy who is ready for adventure – but as winter grips England in its steadily firmer hands I wonder if snow will be along soon, to hammer home its point; stay inside!

Being proud of past efforts (or, why I don’t think our teenage cringe should be erased from existence).

I came across my old USB stick earlier this week, from when I was still in school, and I found a folder labelled “stuff”. Inside, apart from another folder labelled “music” that contained Billionaire by Bruno Mars and nothing else, was a folder that held the first two chapters of my first ever book, that I wrote when I was about thirteen.

Wink & Nod Cafe (or, coffee shop AU’s).

So. The coffee shop AU. I hate it.