I watched John’s deep breaths raise the covers and drop them down again. In the window over his shoulder the North Georgia sun was peaking through. It splashed a golden spotlight on the pinewood wall that my back rest against. Regan, a sweet Great Dane barks in the near distance. I swore I head the rooster this morning, but it was much too early then.

2018 came through our window in the cozy cabin snuggly positioned across the pond on the back acre of our friend’s lot. The wood burning heater long died during the teen temperatures the night before. 2018 had come – not without warning, nor without welcome, but much too fast.