Cold morning.

Steady, soaking, cold rain. 
It takes its coldness from the ice.
That chill is unmistakeable. Inescapable. It burns.
It’s hard to breathe.
I suppose I was a fool to not expect that.
And so the rain continues: I wonder if it will ever stop.
What started as a surprise downpour has become an all-pervading bleakness that feels like it will never end. 
I long for the sunshine; I long for its kiss, the warmth of its touch on my skin, its heat radiating into my soul. 
But it has departed and all that remains is the misery of winter.

I am heading for warmer weather, but part of me will remain frozen in this moment.

I don’t believe that I can ever be the same again.