Spring 1
Monday
7:30
Sunny
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Everett's following morning routine, in light of the previous excitement, was pointed uninteresting. 

His shower went by without incident, and he dressed and ate breakfast without interruption. He walked down the white staircase from his apartment's front door to the clinic below, as always, and started his computer and turned on the lights the same as any morning. He was relieved, however, to find that there seemed to be no more damage to the property other than a few crooked shutters. He straightened the dark green shutters, which contrasted the pale green of the building's siding, in the work of a short moment. The only other difference in routine that came this morning was a small sojourn out of the clinic so early. 

The doctor in Everett pushed him out the door, dark thoughts of the comparison of hardy buildings shaking in the wind to soft bodies being ripped apart by flying debris clouding his mind. As he walked from the clinic, he passed several buildings, most of which appeared undamaged. The brunt of the blows from the storm had landed on easily replaced windows and just as easily repaired gardens, as opposed to the could-be catastrophe that would have been a person. Everett sighed, and shook his head as if to clear the heinous thoughts from his mind. He went past the flower shop, after having seen Alex go inside a little after leaving his front door, and saw that, sadly, the storm had come upon their greenhouse with abandon, demolishing the structure without mercy. The corners of his mouth pressed into a frown, but as he looked inside he saw Isis conversing with Alex in what looked like pleasant and peaceful colloquy, 

Everett straightened from the stupor he had crouched to while looking into the quaint shoppe. Taking a steadying breath, he comforted himself with the knowledge that had there be any medical emergency, he would have been fetched in some way. Still, he strode forward instead of back, passing the cafe, and waving with a smile to Izzie inside. No damage there. Past the cafe and to the inn, their property seemed relatively unscathed, and found himself nodding absently as he completed the circuit of town past the general store and found no serious injuries. When he arrived at his front door, this time passing from the other side. 

He stopped, hand on the knob, and peered down the street. Debris, such as glass and wood and much uprooted plant life, littered the path in a random chaotic pattern. He felt a tense sensation in his chest, and recognized it with a slight scowl as anxiety. Everett knew once he went through his door nothing else would distract him from himself for the rest of his day, and he would be left jittery. Restlessness plagued him on days such as this, and he shifted from foot to foot as he thought about how much time he would later sitting at his desk and shaking his leg while looking out the window for something that was not there. Another sigh passed his lips, and he entered the shop before another moment of hesitation kept him for getting to work.