41 Eighteen years ago.
Spring and autumn were always difficult seasons at this time of the morning. It’d usually be absolutely freezing cold, but quickly warm up into quite a nice day.
That didn’t help Victor Crawford, though. He’d start off the day walking his dogs through the woods, battling against the cold morning chill as it tried to seep its way through his padded coat. Then he’d go back home, drop off the dogs and head back out into the bitter air on his walk to work.
Working outdoors wasn’t a problem for him, but by mid-morning he found himself dripping with sweat, jettisoning layers of clothing. By home time, he’d be freezing again and it’d be back on with the padded coat.
Still, he’d be retired in five months, so he was happy enough taking the rough with the smooth for now.
