As we couldn’t find someone available to fix our main heating system, we had to put the fireplace to work. As soon as the wood started crackling and the room filled with smoke, I remembered the magic of winter and the soothing sounds of fire.

I could stay like this forever, away from the noise of busy people, just listening to the dancing flames, reading or writing, not having to deal with anything that’s outside my comfort. Away from the rush, from the stress, from a world that struggles to keep itself together.

When is this going to end? How and why did we get here? Will we learn the truth in our lifetime? I can’t remember how life used to be before the pandemic. Is it 2 years already? It seems that the world became a dystopian novel. Everything falls apart and I do what I can to keep myself away from it. Will books survive these difficult times? Will good stories continue to emerge?

2 Comments Add yours

  1. lynnfay73 says:

    Who knows. And on top of that we had a chimney fire in our woodstove so I can’t even have my cozy fires since nobody will come to fix it… And I’m caretaking too much to write or read, so I’ll picture you there. 🙂

    Liked by 1 person

    1. moonraven44 says:

      it’s tough when you can’t get anyone to help you. maybe we should learn new skill ourselves so we wouldn’t have to rely on others… but I don’t think I want to be a plumber :))

      Liked by 1 person

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