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Happy Nearly-Midwinter to you! (and if you're in the Southern Hemisphere enjoying Nearly-Midsummer, not a peep please we're bloody freezing up here).
Here, prefaced by my apologies for blatantly half-inching inspiration from a well-known, much-loved and infinitely better fic (Boxing Day by The Hag, which I cannot recommend highly enough) is a tiny little cold-weather snippet.
Here, prefaced by my apologies for blatantly half-inching inspiration from a well-known, much-loved and infinitely better fic (Boxing Day by The Hag, which I cannot recommend highly enough) is a tiny little cold-weather snippet.
In the Bleak Mid Sodding, Bloody, Bastarding Winter
It was the worst month, the shittiest, the coldest, darkest, wettest – it was the absolute bloody fag-end of the year. It was the end of January. The bitterest weather, and nothing – not one single solitary thing – to look forward to: no breaks, no biking and, it seemed increasingly likely, no Bodie.
( It'd been nothing short of weird ... )