Seasonal Affective Disorder: that was how the doctor had explained it, but Briar didn’t know anyone else that got this way in the winter. It felt to him like the world was frozen, or hibernating, and on his worst days he felt like the world was dead. He couldn’t feel the life in the trees when he walked by them, though if he tried to explain this to others they acted like he was crazy. What was it about Briar that made him so different? Why did he have such a connection to plants? Why was it that when winter came he felt like he should just go into his room, close the curtains, go under the blankets, and not come out again until the leaves did?
Spring was late. It was late March, surely things would be getting green again soon, wouldn’t they? The only thing that had really cheered him up lately was spending time in the greenhouse over his shop, Briar’s Patch, but he’d been working 18 hour days seven days a week lately, and his employees had insisted that he should take a day off and try to have some fun.
Briar wasn’t looking himself as he stepped into The Painted Bean to get a cup of coffee, hoping it would give him a bit of pep. His usually vivid green eyes took on a muted olive tone, there were dark circles under his eyes, and he looked rather pale. He wore a brown wool pea-coat over a green sweater and jeans, his long wavy dark brown hair pulled back in a low pony tail. He stepped up to the counter and ordered a simple cup of regular black coffee, and when he had it he stepped over to a small table near the wall, examining some of the poems and pictures under the glass as he waited for it to cool.
