Frost

[smokingboot]

in the air, on the pavement and grass; the grass is still long though, and the passionflower refuses to face defeat, blooming with vicious intent while my orange rose flames up towards it. Everything else looks tired. Like me.

My dear larians is suffering from a flu bug, and spent all night coughing; he kindly went downstairs to sleep in the end, leaving the insomnia inducement to Ralik, who mewed remorselessly for what seemed like hours until he got his breakfast. Now of course, it is too late in the day for sleep. I travel to London later for an unexpected shift tomorrow and then back tomorrow night to spend time with my love.

Had a kind of waking hallucination dream thing; men in WWI uniforms, faces caked with white stuff, like snow or white cracked clay, little eyes blinking through. I went all cold, knowing they were dead; of course, Remembrance Day is coming. Felt the presence of snow, they gestured to me to look behind them but I didn't: I knew if I floated into a dream proper, I would see a great field in the wood where they had all died, and though snow was falling, it hadn't covered their bodies yet. They were firing over the fir trees at a light. It was the sun rising in that pale way it does on a winter's day, so this is not Allhallows but Yule I half thought. I bought my poppy yesterday, it sits crushed in one of my pockets as I don't have anywhere to put it on my coat. Guess I should find some way to pin it on.

Must wake up now, too much to do. This year I am not a hibernating bear or a cat who wants to sleep at home by the fire. This year I am all birdified and I want to fly around, even in air that's cold. Fingers crossed, work will keep me warm.