Looking down at the streets reminded him of poorly erased chalkboards. He was glad to be inside and out of the snow, but it took him back to grade school. Every time he blinked he was peering out the window daydreaming of summer in a class that would never seem to end. A few times he had even bundled up to brave the weather only to . . .
He barely survived the trip home due to the obscene temperature outside. Walking in, he turned on the kitchen light to a loud pop and a flash. Darkness. Letting out a loud sigh he walked right back to the elevator. He checked the temperature again-- negative twenty. When the doors opened on the first floor he was wrapped up, . . .
A long time ago he made a personal rule not to have a toddy unless there was an inch of snow on the ground. He, of course, made exceptions for a sore throat regardless of the forecast. A few more minutes of accumulation and he would be in the clear.
He placed a kettle on the stove and turned the fire on. While that got all . . .