The Trout Rill

The Trout Rill

Crouched down with my back to the wind, I pulled my hood over my head to shield myself from the icy wind that gnawed at my neck. With my other hand I dug through my pocket, grasping for a plastic wrapped packet of HotHands. I coaxed the packet out with my stiff achy...
The Golden Hour

The Golden Hour

Idling away from the ramp, the orange street light glow was slowly swallowed by darkness. He looked back to the east, but the first hints of daylight had yet to leach into the sky. He had a long run ahead of him through a cutting northwest wind. It would be glorious....