It was like a monk’s cell. There was a bed, a dresser, a small window and a fireplace about the size of a briefcase. He had no electricity in this r...om but I think he liked it this way. He struck a match and lit a candle sconce on the wall and then lit a row of candles on his dresser. His dresser was an altar that was beautifully decorated with fresh and dried flowers, a sickle knife and a small cauldron. “A druid,” I said and he nodded. He started a fire and fed it with small twigs and bits of. I did, just barely, and the bracing end of the shower reminded me of the ones I had taken with Becky. Overcoming the many obstacles, I managed to leave the house at the usual time and stomped through the snow to the bus stop. The paper boy must have slept in, or didn’t get his delivery yet, which meant I wouldn’t have anything to read on the way down to work. As it turned out it didn’t much matter, as the bus was jam packed, which made reading impossible anyway. People that usually drove to. More

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