The blanket curls around your shoulders tight. It’s cold outside, a bitter, winter cold, and the heating is barely on so you don’t have to spend any more money on it.
So you’re left with your blanket, your cat, and your hot water bottle.
The cat sits on your toes, comforted by your warmth. She purrs happily, eyes closed, looking like a little loaf of tortoiseshell bread.
The water bottle, that’s on your stomach. You curl around it, trying to savour its warmth that eeks out of its red Christmas cover.
Maybe next year will be better, you think. Saving money is hard when living is hard enough. You resist the temptation to open up your banking app and look at the money in it. The little five pound saving you make.
The blanket is your source of comfort. It smells of home, of your mother’s cooking and your father’s cologne. It’s battered and patched and even has a few wine stains from where your sister came to visit and you didn’t want to put it through the wash.
You hold the blanket up to your nose and breathe in deeply. Maybe, in a few months, you can travel home and see your family.
But for now you have a moment to feel cosy with your blanket, hot water bottle and cat. And, for now, that will have to be enough.
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