W for Winter: H for Harmattan

Nostalgic feel as the rain drizzles to an end, ushering in the pretentious harmattan.
It kisses you gently, never forcefully,the only telltale signs ranges from a few to full blown patches of white where the body lotion was applied too thinly or skipped altogether. One day you wake up and it’s pressing you down, coercing you into more sleep, deeper into the arms of your human blanket or just plain Nigerian wax(whatever you sleep with).
Growing up it was a roller coaster of emotions……