The urge to leave tugged at me, but the downpour seemed determined to keep me indoors. While others might not mind the weather, I found the constant chill repulsive. I reached for my sweater from its usual spot, the cold outside sending shivers down my spine. Winter, with its relentless grip on the temperature, felt restrictive compared to summer's warm embrace and liberating lack of bulky clothing. Sunrises were a source of immense joy for me. Waking up to the sun's gentle greeting, and bathing the world in light, filled me with a sense of rejuvenation. I yearned for the endless summer, a constant warmth chasing away the winter blues. But a fleeting thought arose: "Is it wise to wish for an imbalance?" Nature, in its wisdom, follows a cycle, a beautiful rhythm with its unique melody. Just as there is a time for slumber and a time for awakening, a time for sustenance and a time for rest, winter arrives like a silent sculptor, transforming the landscape and we must learn to accept its

The shrill chirp of my phone pierced the quiet, snapping me back to reality. Brian. My heart skipped a beat - he wanted to take me out at six! A surge of excitement coursed through me, quickly dampened by the dull ache in my shoulders and the ever-present thrum of the day's stress. School. Traffic. Ugh. Could I handle it? But Brian... It had been so long. With a sigh that mingled excitement and exhaustion, I texted back an enthusiastic "Yes!" before dropping my bag with a soft thud on the couch. A cool glass of water from the fridge felt like heaven as I trudged towards my room. The day's events swirled in my head – the endless lectures, the honking horns – as I passed the guest room. The door hung ajar, a sliver of darkness peeking out. A prickle of unease ran down my spine. Cautiously, I pushed it open, expecting... nothing. Just the space, bathed in the pale light of the hallway. With a sigh that released the momentary tension, I shut the door and continued to my room.The steam fro

The computer screen flickered to life, revealing the familiar faces of Ihudiya and Sophie. An eager "Hello!" escaped my lips, the silence stretching a beat too long as I awaited their responses. Ihudiya, usually a whirlwind of energy, appeared subdued, her brow furrowed in a way that sent a jolt of unease through me. "Hi Lucy, hi Sophie," she finally managed, her voice laced with a stress that sent shivers down my spine.My gaze darted to Sophie, a flicker of concern sparking in my chest. Gone was her usual vibrant energy, replaced by a pallor that seemed to dim the light in her eyes. "Sophie, is everything alright?" I asked, my voice laced with concern.Ihudiya chimed in, her voice tight with unease. "Oh, honey, you don't look okay. It's not..." She trailed off, a worried glance flickering between me and Sophie.Sophie offered a weak smile, but it did little to dispel the shadows lurking beneath her eyes. "Seriously, guys, I'm fine. Just a bit under the weather, that's all. Nothing, a

The comforting warmth enveloped me as I stepped inside my flat. The familiar scent of home – a hint of cinnamon and something baking – filled my senses, coaxing a deep, relaxing breath from my lips. Just as I reached for my shopping bags, a sharp ring pierced the quiet. "Who in the world?" I muttered, surprised by the unexpected call.The phone's shrill ring shattered the peaceful silence, and a jolt of surprise shot through me. Staring at the screen, I saw my mom's name flashing – a name synonymous with both love and... well, let's just say lively conversations. We hadn't spoken since our last epic disagreement about visiting her. Look, I loved my mom, but dodging Grandma's not-so-subtle hints about grandchildren was getting exhausting. Maybe this time, a fruit basket would suffice? With a mix of trepidation and a silent prayer for a non-baby-related conversation.Relief washed over me. No more frantic calls from Mom about an empty seat at the Christmas table. I'd be there, a familiar

As we sipped the smooth wine, the conversation drifted naturally towards family. Brian leaned back in his chair, a touch of vulnerability replacing his usual easy smile. "Family's important to me," he began, his voice softer than you'd heard all night. He spoke fondly of his sister, their bond evident in the way his voice softened when he mentioned her name. "My mom, she's a real diamond in the rough," he said, his eyes twinkling with affection. A shadow flickered across his face as he mentioned his father. "We lost him to leukaemia a few years back. He was a pillar of the community and owned Spring Island. They even have a creepy nickname for it – 'The Dead Island' some folks call it." A frown creased my forehead. The Dead Island? I must admit, that doesn't sound very inviting. Brian's smile faltered slightly. "This house," he began, his voice a low murmur, "used to be filled with laughter. But after we lost Dad..." He trailed off, a pained expression flickering across his face.