Photo Source: Pixabay It was that time of the year again: when everything was wet, the sun hid like a shy child, only coming out every once in a while to peek through the clouds; the sky was painted grey and cried. A cold time that would rattle old bones like Azim’s. Standing at the window frame, he watched as the rain poured. He could see twilight stealing in even though it would be a lot darker at later hours this time of the year. Everything outside appeared misty under the dark,...