A year after repatriation I took an on-line course on creative writing. As an expat I had embarked on the e-learning journey and I enjoyed – and still do – partaking in classes from the comfort of my own home. In the middle of the night. One of the tasks was to write an engaging poem. I had never written such a thing in my life; it´s not really my cup of tea, or at least so I thought. But I knew exactly from where to get the inspiration – the first cold and wet, dark, months back in Sweden. So I wrote. And I cried. The words flowed and at the same time evoked such strong feelings. Apparently in the teacher too. I received high praise. She commented it might be about suicide though – referring to darkness, cold and that it didn’t have to be. Eh … no. Only about the weather. ;/