What a difference a few years make

[jchrisobrien]

He stands up from his computer.  His neck makes a soft popping as he rolls it.  His fingers clench and unclench.  He walks through the building and stand at the window, a mug of tea in his hand.  Outside night has fallen over the city, twinkling lights blink and flicker in the old part of the city.

He takes a long drink from his mug.  He takes a longer breath and lets it out.

And he smiles.  Contentedly.