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turtling
turtling cigarettes, coffee, chaos and cuss words
Autoplay OFF   •   a year ago
when you grow up with the sun

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I haven't been out of my house for the past three weeks.

I haven't been out of my house for the past three weeks. It's cold outside.

I haven't been out of my house for the past three weeks. It's cold outside. Too cold for angels to fly, as Ed would say.

I haven't been out of my house for the past three weeks. It's cold outside. Too cold for angels to fly, as Ed would say. Not that I'm an angel.

The Christmas Market is on.

The Christmas Market is on. People are walking around bundled in coats and scarves.

The Christmas Market is on. People are walking around bundled in coats and scarves. Their noses and ears pink from the harsh wind and iciness that seeps through the layers.

The Christmas Market is on. People are walking around bundled in coats and scarves. Their noses and ears pink from the harsh wind and iciness that seeps through the layers. My doorbell rings.

I open it to find three teenagers with bright smiles and windblown hair.

I open it to find three teenagers with bright smiles and windblown hair. They're so pretty.

They hand me a flyer with pictures of snow-capped houses and twinkling lights and Father Christmases.

They hand me a flyer with pictures of snow-capped houses and twinkling lights and Father Christmases. They speak in a language I don't understand.

They hand me a flyer with pictures of snow-capped houses and twinkling lights and Father Christmases. They speak in a language I don't understand. It takes me a moment to hold out my hand and take it. They smile and they leave and they close the door.

I go back inside and tack the flyer on my wall.

I go back inside and tack the flyer on my wall. It looks nice...

I go back inside and tack the flyer on my wall. It looks nice... Nestled between the different postcards of different places.

I go back inside and tack the flyer on my wall. It looks nice... Nestled between the different postcards of different places. Of places I will never go to.

I go back inside and tack the flyer on my wall. It looks nice... Nestled between the different postcards of different places. Of places I will never go to. And will never see.

It has been three weeks since I last left my house.

It's cold outside.

But that's not what's keeping me here.

I look out of my window again.

I look out of my window again. I see them walking past with smiles on their faces.

I look out of my window again. I see them walking past with smiles on their faces. This time, last year, I would have been out there with them.

Such a surprise how a year could change.

I go back to bed and cuddle underneath my blanket and five stuffed animals.

I spent three weeks looking for the smile I lost.

It's not under the couch.

It's not under the couch. It's not accidentally left in the freezer.

It's not under the couch. It's not accidentally left in the freezer. No, I didn't flush it down the toilet.

It's not under the couch. It's not accidentally left in the freezer. No, I didn't flush it down the toilet. It's not in the closet between the bra with the funky wire or the too-tight leggings I bought and never wore.

It's not under the couch. It's not accidentally left in the freezer. No, I didn't flush it down the toilet. It's not in the closet between the bra with the funky wire or the too-tight leggings I bought and never wore. It's gone.

I still haven't found it.

And, I'm not going out there without it.

It's cold outside.

But it's colder here still.

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