The Chains We Forge in Life
Scrooge, Marley, and what our words say about us
Christmas Eve settled over London with the kind of cold that bit straight through wool. The fog lay against the rooftops like a second skin, and by late afternoon, the daylight had already drained away, leaving the streets dim and the air full of thick smoke. Passersby hurried home, their faces buried in scarves and collars.
Ebeneezer Scrooge climbed the…