Routines Stories

Beams of light reflected off the icy surface into my weary eyes as I took my first steps into the cold. Save for the rows of barren trees, the development had become a veritable tundra. The morning sun was still young and had greeted me, suddenly and energetically, like a child eager to show its world to an exhausted parent. I ventured forth, into the all-encompassing gray that had come with the winter season, along the v...