“Great, now it’s snowing.”
A chill sent a shiver down to my spine.
No use worrying about it. I trudged on.
The last month ran through my head, the misunderstandings, the angry words. Perhaps this was for the best.
I kept my head bowed as I plodded along, as much to avoid seeing the familiar landmarks as to protect myself from the frigid wind. The ground was just ground, one clod like any other, one rock no different from the hundred thousand I had just passed. But it was changing as I climbed higher, for snow began to cover the trail.
Perhaps Driman was right, perhaps I had stayed far too long. Most of my youthhood companions had settled down long ago, but I was different. Restless. I was not made to be a farmer!
Mother’s worried face passed before my eyes. She understood, though she didn’t like it. And Father…
I felt another chill, but this one from a memory, not from the cold.
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