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Weekly Contest #284
He groaned as he stretched. His back was a tad hunched. His bones rattled with age and tiredness. In his reflection, only an unshaven old man is looking right back at him. His hazel eyes made a disarming impression against his stark white hair. The air was warm, yet he held a tight robe around his body as if he were freezing. He made himself tea in silence and calmly sat at the breakfast nook in the kitchen. It was Christmas. Yet the house was riddled with noises of pipes and aching wood. No laughter; no warm voices whispering their festive ...
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