The cold morning air bit through the worn fabric as he stepped out of the house. The truck sat in the driveway, silent and unmoving, its gas gauge hovering dangerously close to empty. He couldn’t afford to use the little fuel left—it was a lifeline for emergencies, not errands.
With a weary sigh, Jacob decided to make his way on foot. The grocery store wasn’t far, just under a mile, but the distance felt longer on days like this. His boots, scuffed and worn from years of use, hit the pavement with a dull thud as he began walking.