This is a story I started today, at this point I have no idea where it is going, or even if it is going anywhere..
Jesup sat on his porch squinting his eyes against the glare of the freshly fallen snow. A northeaster blew through overnight leaving the town buried under a thick white blanket. He is an old man, creeping steadily towards 90, his face a tableau portrait of heartbreak and happiness long past.
Jesup takes one last sip of his coffee feeling the grit from the grounds coat his tongue and slowly gets to his feet. It is going to be a long day.
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