A cold and wintry night

On a Winter night in the countryside, a small cottage sits wrapped in a blanket of freshly fallen snow and sparsely fenced by lightly dusted evergreens. Inside a man sits by the hearth quietly reading a tale of love and loss whilst the logs in the fireplace quietly mumble to each other in the language of flame. Snug in a sweater from days of his past he rests his weary head against the soft, broken-in leather of an old, familiar easy chair. At his feet, a dog; at his side, a liquid confidant the color of amber; and on his lips, a sigh for things once loved and forever lost. Here he rests with his book of woe and wonderment until the night recedes and the dawn draws near. Closing his book, draining his glass, and waking his pet he wanders off to await the embrace of his dreams.