Rain hits hard

When the rain hits hard, the moon is out and the wind chills you to the bone, that is when I’m happiest.

The shift in weather has left me feeling rejuvenated, alive and excited; Exhaled breath is visible in the air, your nose is red and you are all rugged up in coats, scarfs and hats, I’m back in Manchester.

Snowball fights at midnight, beating my brother outside to be the first one to stand in the snow and leave my footprints, fighting with mum about not wanting to wear a coat, and coming home to a blaring fireplace are all memories that lead to me missing my home.

‘Be home when the streetlights come on,’ called mum. This was the worst part of the day, having to go inside. The appreciation of the cold confuses some of you, but for me its home.


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