Winter was strutting her stuff with a vengeance this year. Its persistent clouds once again hid every ray of morning sun that might have brightened the street. Even the street lamp spells didn’t realize it was daytime, believing in winter’s deception and shining as if it were night. Winter was a liar. Just like someone else she knew. Another gust of wind blew. Its icy fingers sank beneath her coat, stabbing at her skin as if to freeze her very core. Perhaps its cold caress might numb her heart and make it quit yearning for the impossible. She hunched over. Not even winter’s blast was strong enough to do that. At least the frigid wind had cut the persistent ties of last night’s dreams...Justin Wasten tossing a metal heart like a grenade, the explosion destroying everything she loved and Edmund lying about it all. Despite her exhaustion, she broke into a stiff jog. Hot coffee beckoned a half block away. She closed the distance, leaping over the cracks in the sidewalk, an old habit.
