At 75, he was still determinedly independent, stubbornly mowing his own lawn and keeping the house in order, though the weight of loneliness lingered in every corner. Winter, however, was different. The cold gnawed at his old bones, every gust of harsh wind a reminder of his frailty.
With a snowstorm looming, as warned by the local authorities, Jeremy hurried through his chores, eager to retreat to the sanctuary of his bed, away from the creeping chill and the loneliness that always felt harsh in the cold.