The End of Winter, Part 6

It’s now sunny in London, but still cold.

My boyfriend wakes up at 5am and can’t go back to sleep. ‘It’s actually 6am,’ I say. ‘The clocks will move forward in a few weeks.’

It’s no longer dark when I leave for work or dark when I return. I cut through Victoria Park and feel slightly jealous of the people jogging around it. Cyclists take a second to look me in the eyes and judge whether I’ll jump in front of them, or not. And then they are gone.

On the train platform, I’m happy to soak up the rays.