3
Tom woke up every morning like he always did.
Brushed his teeth, took a precise five-minute long shower in lukewarm (perhaps almost cold) water, and made scrambled eggs with a side of buttery toast. He laced on his running shoes and opened the door to a new, crisp, spring morning. The signs of life were everywhere: bird’s chirping in the distance, dew on the wild prairie grass, his breath in the cold morning air. Trees were blooming - soon leaves would appear and summer would return, finally winning its battle with Iowa’s harsh winter.
Tom ran the same path he jogged every morning. Passed the same houses. Saw the same trees. Heard the same birds.
Everything was exactly the same as it ever was. And it was good.
The route Tom ran was made up of rural country roads. Some were still dir
