Beyond his window was winter. It had finally arrived. Along-awaited smile cracked beneath the surface of his leathered skin. He inhaled the cold air that had perpetrated beyond the pane of glass. At Last.
“So, you have returned to me.”
The empty world gave no response.
He watched the frozen landscape, and the moon that had been impaled on the highest peak, and nodded. This was how it was meant to be. Finally.
Then, the noise.
He knew that he couldn’t be dreaming because he never dreamt. He had never told anyone about this. Well, he had nobody to tell. He was pleased that he did not wander in the nocturnal world of daily flotsam. He never read a newspaper or a book. He found them annoying distractions to the business of life. If he ever allowed the truth to be told, he would have admitted to not being able…
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