Alexa Calliguri

Old Man Winter

Barry was on the path he had walked since he was a kid. He knew it like the back of his hand, even though it was covered in an entire season’s worth of snow. He taught his grandchildren the way of the path the season before. Left at the tree that was shaped like a dragon. Right at the boulder that nearly crushed his brother ages ago. Follow the trail of raspberry bushes that lined both the left and the right lane. They haven’t changed in his nine decades of life. If his father was still alive, he would still be able to get around just fine.