By Bridgid

John Biebe looked down at his boots and wondered if it would be the last time he saw snow on them. He slowly kicked it off against the door frame of the house he’d lived at before in another time. Standing there for a moment, he drew in a deep breath and closed his eyes as he exhaled. He didn’t have to see the steam as it rose around his head; he’d remember that bit well.

There was a ‘sold’ banner across the ‘for sale’ sign and he knew he was finally closing this chapter of his life but another one had ended without warning. The woman he thought he loved left for Philadelphia two days ago. Siobhan ran scared. At least that is what John thought. She said she missed the city, she said she was suffering from some kind of cabin fever and the dirt and grime of the City of Brotherly Love was calling her back. She loved that more than she loved John. Once again his heart was shattered. There would never be another time. He knew he would spend the rest of his days buried in his work in the small office at the Glen.

His bags were packed and waiting for him in the hallway of the small house. A cab was called to take him to the airport at Palmer. From there he’d travel on to Anchorage and then to Sydney. He’d spoken to Bud White briefly and he knew from what the man told him that he’d be able to lose himself in his work. No easy days ahead and no more women for John Biebe, ever.

At the sound of the taxi’s horn he, reached down to sling his carry on over his shoulder. Balancing it, he lifted the large suitcase and turned to leave without looking back. From now on he’d look no other way but forward. The past is just that, the past. Biebe’s edges were a bit harder then they used to be. Life would be just fine and dandy if he never saw snow, ice or Siobhan again. They were all in the same category. Cold.