Our dark hour
“There’s more suicide in the spring,” she said.
I must have misheard her, I thought. That has to be backward, right? Cause we all know winter is worse.
Bumping along a dirt road outside of Anchorage Alaska our tour guide was explaining what life was like far up North. Describing how it is to ride the undulation from summer months of constant sunlight to winter doldrums of complete darkness. This answer about…