How Hemingway Eases the Discomfort of Depression
I’ve been sinking, feeling down about everything but nothing, really. I wake, heave myself from the bed and open the blinds to let the sunlight in.
What I saw were fluffy, white snowflakes dancing from a darkened sky against the nakedness of trees. It was still snowing, just as the winter storm forecast predicted. I stand there, transfixed by the flakes flailing about in midair.