19/11/25 When I crave for winter it is not the cold I crave for, but rather the warmth. The warmth of watching the rain run down the window, the warmth of the low golden light that fills the room, the warmth of my heavy coat and scarf. Stranger though, when I crave for summer, I crave for coldness. I crave for the ability to cool off, run shrieking into the sea. I long for a summer where salvation is sticky bottles warmed by the sun, and the lake we turn to when we can tan no