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“Do you ever feel like you’re late for your own life?” he asked.

Aisling smiled. It was a small smile, barely a movement of muscle. But it was real. It was winter, and she was still here. The dark had not swallowed her. The cold had not killed her. 4 seasons dublin

Spring would come again. It always did. But first, she had to honour the winter. And that, she decided, was its own kind of courage. “Do you ever feel like you’re late for your own life

“You look like someone who forgot how to feel the rain,” he said, not looking up. His voice was a low gravel, like the Liffey at low tide. ” he said