Thursday, 3rd December 1580.
It was an hour before sunset; a blanket of snow covering the trees, the streets, and the various buildings came to view as Bryan exited the Sofia Public Library.
He pulled the center front of his overcoat closer together as Bryan exhaled smoke from his mouth. This wasn't the smoke from cigarettes but water vapor—steam, if you like.
The cold air stung Bryan's cheeks as he pulled his gray muffler closer to his face. The temperature had gotten even colder in December. If he didn't have work today, he would have never stepped out of the house.
Bryan started to walk toward the farmer's market, his hands balled up inside the pocket of his overcoat.
He didn't feel like taking out a cigarette and smoking because his fingers would start to feel cold the moment he took them out of his pocket.
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