Sunny Monday morning, hiemal mid autumn. A newstand next to the bus stop, some horse behind the small glass, and 2026. The same colour corner, I've seen rabbits, dragons, snakes. They say the older you get, the earlier the first cold day will hit . I'm still confused how age and the natural temperature are aligned. Nevertheless, I love cold days, maybe I'm clinging to the brief safety given by the hood of my coat. Only in shivery days, I long to do something that feels warm, like, hot cocoa (in an ideal life with a huge TV and a couch, the crackling fireplace...), crochet stuff. The red I chose last year is waiting for me to get it done. But I'm not as sure as the moment we discussed the shades of red, about whether the receiver will get it someday or not. Have I learned to suppress my idealism and my hope to be purely practical from inside out? Hey, have you learned? Should I learn? Necessary to learn? Horse arrives, so is success.