Burned Paperbacks
It was a typical December evening when John’s train slowed to a halt over the snow that fell after the previous train’s departure. Stepping onto the platform, he was welcomed to his hometown with a gust of piercing cold wind and the distant smell of pancakes from the local diner; reminders of why he left and why he’s returned. John dug his chin into his scarf, stuck his bare fist into his pea coat, and…