![]() There were the Hibernators, who embraced their Gloom and set about preparing their winter’s den Netflix, crates of wine, firewood, and enough plätzchen and nuts to see out the icy siege. Green, replaced by an underwhelming drabness, permeating every corner, of every inch, of every part, of anything that could have been touched by light, but was instead strangled by shadow.Īt that time of the year-the ‘Gloomszeit’, as it had become known-the city broke off into three distinct groups. The leaves, long gone from the trees, a faded memory, squashed into the pavement under the heavy boots of winter. Grey clouds sagged, like gargantuan, sodden cotton balls, which threatened to fall from the sky and suffocate all of us at any minute. The Glooms grew exponentially, feeding off disdain and hopelessness, causing a despairing darkness to fall over the city. They bounced off all the other faces and surfaces until they pointed directly back at themselves. They were so invasive that everyone took exception to them and each projected their very own snarly version of it back at one other. Deep furrowed frowns, directed at the world around and at no one in particular. ![]() The shoulders of everyone she met drooped forward with the sheer weight of them and peoples’ faces showed their struggles with the immensity of it all. Mali could always tell when it was the time of the Glooms. ![]()
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