Flimsy forming icicles and the thinnest sprinkle of snow on the untouched morning road were the only signs that the dreaded Christmas holiday was approaching. John sat on the corner of his bed watching that lonely road waiting for the first bus of the day to pass by - he still has yet to learn to drive probably shouldn't due to the jobs he has would just be saving him a coffin cost really. Down stairs has been quiet... too quiet... they weren't arguing they vant be arguing over the stupid Christmas's celebration again yet here John sat in utter silence each minute sagging the bags under his eyes.
When did his loved solitude become almost a punishment?
Across nearly half the country sat a cosy man on a stone bench surrounded by trees, all his clothes especially his trousers were linked with fur he had made himself - crime doesn't just wait to happen, neither does the sun setting after twighlight. This year is ending with a bang.
@thieving-magpiexhunting-tiger














