Bitter January wind slapped against his bare body. His feet, sore on the bottom from walking across the rocky costal shoreline, felt like they could stop working at any moment. For only a second his eyes, which he held tightly shut to keep the dust and debris out, opened. There was a house in the distance.
Onward he stumbled, praying that a warm meal would await him. His thoughts raced back to when he was a child. Homemade biscuits, his mother's stuffing, brown gravy, a leg of lamb. This