Our bedroom is blanketed in the thin grey light peering out from the edges of the blackout curtains — even at 4:30 in the morning, our neighbors’ floodlights press against our windows, forcing themselves through the cracks near the window frames.
Last night it was so cold in our house that our mattress felt frozen. The bed stayed hard under my weight at first, melting little body-shaped impressions into the queen-sized ice cream sandwich as I slowly sank in. It’s warmer in here now, but just barely. The temperature dropped while we were away for a week and with our heating off, winter has invited herself inside.
I shove my feet into my wooly slippers and begin the journey to the coffee maker, careful not to offend any of the more irritable floorboards in front of my son’s bedroom door. The kitchen is completely dark — from the window next to the coffee pot I notice that the leaves have aband…
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