The chill air of the lingering Fall blew into Cid’s face as he walked up the cobblestone walkway. Spring had officially come but it wasn’t showing it’s warm presence on this premises.

Cid took several more steps and stared up in awe at the fantastic sight of his former home, Ficlingtons. The massive 40 story building filled him with wonderful memories of the few weeks he had spent here and a wave of happiness and nostalgia quickly washed over him.

To the double doors he walked and pushed them open, revealing the familiar hall he had spent hours pacing, thinking about his ridiculous 1024 character stories. The air still had the smell of frustration, sweat and body odor he never thought he would miss.

To left in the hall sat the one thousand chimpanzees still trying make Hamlet even remotely approachable in the modern era; and to the right sat about forty frustrated writers amongst piles of broken keyboards, smashed monitors and self-esteem.

Cid took one last sweeping glance around and smiled. “Home again”