STAINS OF WINTER

The tattered South African flag on my wall isn't a source of pride, not anymore. It's more a reminder of what I left behind; vibrant chaos and a sun-drenched life that now feels like a faded photo. A soft smile touches my lips as I imagine the beaches back home at this time of year; the endless summer days, the smell of braais, and the noise of family drama unfolding over plentiful amounts of beer.
I pull on my thickest jacket, the one that makes me feel like a marshmallow, and head out into the grey. I used to dream of snow, as a child fascinated by stories of winter wonderlands. Now? Enough. I've had enough of the unforgiving bite of cold that seeps into your bones. I'm grateful the snow has finally stopped. The metro awaits, and so does the grim reality of my life.