Time Standing Still

On a crisp winter morning such as this one, the view from Quinn’s bedroom window could be breath taking, but only if he looked straight ahead, keeping his line of vision over the tops of the grey slate and terra-cotta rooftops.

Quinn allowed his gaze to move across towards the smoke-hued mountains in the distance. Folding as they did and disappearing through the faded powder-blue sky, he could see the ice clouds knit together in that slow and lazy motion that calmed him like nothing else could...