All summer I’m restless, looking for excuses to leave the house long into the evening. Then October comes, the sky seems to sink below the tree line, and my desire to be anywhere other than under a duvet disappears. By November, daylight ends before the workday and night falls like a weighted blanket.
A Love Letter to My Bed
A Love Letter to My Bed
A Love Letter to My Bed
All summer I’m restless, looking for excuses to leave the house long into the evening. Then October comes, the sky seems to sink below the tree line, and my desire to be anywhere other than under a duvet disappears. By November, daylight ends before the workday and night falls like a weighted blanket.