Up here, too far North, it's getting darker. The late afternoon light disappears by five o'clock. I can't take it. Just like last year, this third week of October has undone me. A threat looms behind my eyes. Lethargy drags at my feet. The air is dry, the city full of crime. My friends despise me. If I breathe deep, I start to cry.

Because I am a plant, Tim is ordering grow lights. He is determined to keep me sane.
He is a good man. I am determined that Winter will not be lost on me.