Warmth at the Silver Plume Depot

Snow lashed the frosted windows of the Silver Plume depot hard enough to make the glass tremble in its frame. Jonas Hargrave stood beneath the narrow overhang with his shoulders hunched against the wind, staring at the iron tracks disappearing into a white blur. He had been waiting nearly an hour. He hated waiting. At thirty-five, Jonas had...

By My Life Story Editorial

Published November 2, 2026 · Updated November 2, 2026