A house isn’t a home until you’ve made a bit of a mess of it. That’s what I told myself when I moved in on the 17th to stop me from whining so much as I mopped up the spilt decaf coffee on the floor. It wasn’t entirely untrue, but when a thunderstorm came over the night after I had just moved into Canterbury, I realised I didn’t have a Thunder Buddy. I was the only one who’d moved into the house. So I’m pretty sure the storm wasn’t at all intimidated when I sang the Thunder Song on my own.
|A casual threat left outside my room