Some People Wake Up Fine

Grey Monday, October, raining. I crawled into the week like something dragging itself out of a ditch, trailing coffee. Margot, photographed for The Libertine Ezine on this same kind of autumn morning, looked perfectly at ease—like the cold and the grey and the early hour were all just decor she’d arranged herself. I resent that kind of effortlessness on principle, and also I want it badly.