Clinging On Part 5.

muchas, muchas, muchas mas…

Read After Burnout

images-119The clock told him that it was 5 o’clock. There was no knocking at his door, but he wondered why he should have ever thought there would be. He was in his bed. His feet felt like blocks of ice and his bladder was pointing out the obvious; he was a very old man who could not control the simplest of his bodily functions. The day was almost upon him, the night almost gone. 

His old bones rang out in protest as he climbed from the bed. He glimpsed the scene from  the window and stopped, stock-still. Winter had made another return and the snow was piled high against the home’s walls. 

When he had been young, he had known winters like this. The winters were punctual and predictable. They were perilous to anything or anybody that chose to ignore the obvious. He and his brother were not afraid of danger…

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