“There’s a cider cart down the main street, if you want something warm. It stays open till midnight.”

“I suppose there’s no hiding from the town at this point.” She gave a limp smile and Iris returned with a small dip of her head.

“Alright,” said Mira. “Let’s get some cider.”

They clambered down the tower, walked onto the silent streets, and made their way toward the main avenue, where a lone steel cart stood humming near the sleepless drugstore. Moments later, they walked back onto the streets, hands clutching great, steaming styrofoam cups of bubbling cider in the lonesome December night.

Writing month, day eighteen, word count: 17,015


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