The bus pulled into the town late that afternoon. It could have been anywhere, but for Amy, this was home. A rural town in the heart of the country was all she knew, until seven months ago.
The bus ride had taken her three hours that afternoon in late October. The nights were drawing in now and Amy knew that a winter at home would be cold and cruel and there was still much to look forwards to.
She loved the traditions of this time of year. What with Halloween, Thanksgiving and then Christmas. It was a time of year for hunkering down in front of log fires with hot chocolate and watching the snow fall sometimes gently, sometimes in a blizzard. So strong, you did not feel in the inhabited world at all.
Yet when you were home, with her people, all you could do was smile.
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