The Wishes Tempus FugitHallelujah
‘It’s cold... ‘ James thought to himself as he walked through the forest behind the house. Only a short stretch of the legs led him to his favorite tree. He found the spot where he could climb, grabbed a branch and pulled himself up. His breath spread out into the cold air, turning white before dissipating. He found his resting spot and moved into position, relaxing against the tree, hearing the creak of the branches underneath him. He wasn’t worried. In all the time over the years he’d sat...