So in a voice, so in a shapeless flame, Angels affect us oft

[mi_guida]

Paris has been covered over by a freezing mist, that makes the lights sparkle through it and catches in my hair where it tucks into my scarf. It's all over everywhere, I could barely see across the lawn to my building when I got back. It's cold, and chill in my lungs - but dry and crisp, and beautiful.

Now, I'm inside, and my room is warm. There's a mug of hot chocolate at my elbow waiting for me to finish it, and my candles are flickering on the side table, while the fairy lights are lighting up the fabric that hangs down over my bed.

Just for a moment, it's all very beautiful.

Just for these moments, everything else becomes worth struggling through.