Chapter 1 — Weathering the storm

His hands felt cold and dry today, more than usual, in fact. The bathroom light overhead flickered subtly as his tired eyes stared into the dirty mirror. He continued to carefully snip away at his thick black beard. His black hair was long and begged for a trim, but the man refused to give it as much care and time as he did with his beard. It was something about his beard that he enjoyed maintaining and grooming. Maybe for the fact that it hid the wrinkles on his aging face, which told of a much older age than what he was. After he was done snipping away, a heavy sigh escaped from his body. He stared at his shirtless body while his thoughts contemplated on another day of not exercising. His doctor advised him to at least workout two to three times a week. A smile flashed from his face when he realized it was pointless for him to even think about it. Today was another twelve-hour day at the factory.