Jimmy Bellamy lit his cigarette, drawing in as much smoke as he desired before bellowing it out. What a godawful day it was. Bookehurt had a reputation of being extreme. Whenever it rained, everywhere was flooded. Sometimes, electricity would be cut off. Amd for days. When came the sun, however, blistering heat was the result. Same went with snow, wind, everything.

He sat on his rocking chair, looking out to the foggy environment. It was 8 in the morning, yet the weather made it seem it stilm was dawn. Jimmy hated the weather. He hated the town. Hated his neighbourhood—sometimes, hated his life. Well, not exactly hate. Nah, that wasn’t...