A slight unease crept along my spine today. I forgot it in the downpour, in the return of sunshine. I forgot it in the row of things to do, on the balcony on the South island, in tickets booked. But as I walked home in the soft twilight, the grass so wet but the sky so blue, Stockholm resting, oblivious to the magic, it twinged in my headphones. Today was Summer Solstice.
And how quickly the joy of the longest day of the year is tarnished by its inevitable dark side: tomorrow, the sun will remain below the horizon for just a little longer. Every day gets shorter now. At the cusp of summer in full, I already longed for next spring.
But in my pocket lay a key, to yet another home, a temporary refuge for future days. There are dear, dear souls around me who open their riches, their homes to me when I have none, who take my hand and take me safely to shore, time after time. My cup runneth over.
What's a little darkness, with people like that in one's life?
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