Upon a cold winters night, the warmth of the fire gave a savory warmth to comfort the inhabitants. The snow was unfurling outside in quite a storm. Inside, in his old lazy boy, John was eating some oranges for his cold was starting to come upon him powerfully and he was willing to try anything to get better. He usually repressed his urge to do anything about being sick. He was reticent when it came to illness. His father always told him to just wait it out and drink some milk.

John lived a real grotesque life in his home in the country. He was never much for the relationships. He tried to explicate how relationships worked but he found he would rather carve wood and sit at home in front of the fire. People tried to help him live a happier life but when John figured out what they were doing, anger swarmed over him like a cancer. He would strike at them in a low but vehement voice upon even the largest man would shrivel in chagrin at their weakness. The other people wearily renounced their friendship of John and his depressing life in his house.

Today, he did none of his work for he was too weak to move out of his chair. Recently he’s been wondering about this cold. He thinks that it may have been misdiagnosed and is starting to become zealous in his actions to discover what it is that will help him in his time. It was a somnolent quest for the cure but he thinks that these oranges could help him get better.

Suddenly, John heard pandemonium outside and jumped out of his chair for the first time in 37 hours. He stumbled to his coat to go outside and see what has happened. His anger was swelling up in him like a swarm of bees attacking a badger. He could swear it was those raucous delinquents from down the road messing in his shop again. He opens his door and the cold hit his face hard and cold. The freezing bitter was trying to stop him but the passionate anger in his mind acted as a heater to keep him going.

He gets to his shop and looks around everywhere to see where this fracas could have come from but for the live of him he couldn’t find those kids. He found that his chisel has been moved out of its spot by one inch and the fury of this sight was enough to light the fire of many pits. His thoughts were spoken in such a voluble manner that his was about ready to explode when he suddenly found what had made the noise.

He walked up to the corner of his shop to find an owl. The owl seemed to have something bothering it. He went to touch the owl to determine the exact disturbance to the poor owl but it bit at him with great speed. Luckily he was able to pull back fast enough. He went and found a mouse in the loft of the shop to see if the owl would be receptive to food. The owl did take the mouse but it was still hesitant about John coming close to it.

He lifted up the owl to find that its left wing was torn on the inner side. He took the owl to the workbench for he didn’t know where to take it or what to do. Then, he had the wonderful idea on what to do. He grabbed a needle and a small thread. John, with his steady carpenter hands, stitched the wing as best as he could. The owl, defamed by the pain and need for help, stayed still for John. When he was finished, he took the owl inside for a quick wash at the site of the surgery and then some rest.

The next morning, he decided the owl would be ready for its first attempt at flying. He went to get the owl and found it in front of the fire, warm and cozy. He looked upon the owl in such a way that the owl looked like almost a companion. On this thought, he decided he could keep an owl here against its will. He took the owl and headed towards the door. When the door opened, he let the giant bird fly out of his hands. The grace of the owl was unmatched by anything John had ever seen. He was sad at the leaving of his new friend. He closed the door and went back to his chair.

Then, there was a tapping at the door. It was soft but determined. John got back out of his chair to see who in the world would be at his house on this cold winter morning. He opened the door slightly to see. There, standing at the bottom of his door was the little owl. The owl came in through the crack in the door and rubbed up on John’s leg slightly and then looked up into John’s eyes. John, awe struck and a little relieved, let the owl inside.
The owl, cold, went to the fireplace and perched itself on top of the mantle. Since he could be complacent about his friends, he let the little bird stay. The owl seems to have become acclimate with its surroundings. John liked the company and then, at thinking that, his cold dissipated like sugar stirred into water. He felt amazing and new.

John let the owl stay and he got back to his work. After a while, he started inviting his normal customers in for lunch when they need to wait on the gloss to dry on the wood. The owl just sat in his spot above the mantle. John always told the owl when he was leaving and let it outside when it needed to be let out. John and the owl became best friends. The depressing life in John’s house went away and the house seemed more lively and fun. John was a new man. Happier, new, and definitely not lonely.