standing on parliament hill

Three times now, I have sat down to write an essay I’ve been working on about marriage. It just won’t come. I recognise my exhaustion by the number of times I catch myself dazing out the window. It’s snowing outside though, everything white and clean. Who could blame me for marvelling for a bit. Still, here I am talking about snow and not talking about marriage so clearly there’s something else on my mind.

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