Tor was more than a little tired after a long day at work. Holidays meant more hours because more hands were needed on deck...but more hands were needed for a reason. Mocha Mountain was already popular. During the holidays, when folks were running errands? It was a necessity to survive the lines and the cold, and a hiding spot for those who had had way too much of the lines. Homecoming was rather exhausting as well.

Catch the bus, walk a few blocks, dig out house keys, trudge up the stairs, drop stuff, change, trudge back down the stairs to grab a bag of pita chips and a thing of hummus and a soda, trudge to living room, flop on couch. They groaned as they just sat there a few minutes, contemplating the throbbing of their feet.

“I need better shoes for this s**t. How do I not have blisters?” After their moments of simply letting everything hurt like hell, they reached for the remote and started channel surfing, head tilting this way and that as they decided on what to watch. And finally found an option.

“Oooo, tiny homes! Those are kind of nifty.” They settled in, munching on their chips and hummus as they watched.

And grew curious. And curiouser. And curiouser still. Of course, they’d run into the notion of tiny houses often enough. They were on Tumblr, on Twitter, on Facebook. They were addicted to Netflix. But they’d never really...thought about them much. Not beyond ‘oh, that’s cute!’.

But the more they watched, the more it got them thinking. They and Ally were going to have to move out of their parents’ place eventually. Preferably sooner rather than later. Renting had its own ups and down, especially apartments, but buying a home was so...expensive. Condos still had a lot of the drawbacks of an apartment and renting…

But a tiny house. That was something to think about. Especially with how easy it would be to keep a smaller space clean, and how nice it would be to just drop their things and flop on bed and not deal with the pain in their feet... Once the episode was done, Tor grabbed their Cintiq and started sketching, thinking of the things they and Ally needed and wanted. The kind of people they were. They were lost in things until a careful tap on their shoulder jolted them out of their ‘zone’.

“Dinner’s ready, sweetie.”

“Oh! Hi Dad! Sorry, got lost in a new project.” The man chuckled, patting their head.

“I noticed. Come on. I made spaghetti.” Tor perked up, grinning.

“You know me so well, Dad!” Setting their Cintiq to one side, they followed their father to the kitchen, chattering about the ideas they’d had so far. The little ‘breakfast bar’ instead of a table, the windows to let light in but easily be closed for sleeping or privacy, the multi-use space that could be a living room or Ally’s work area. And so, so much more.

[Word Count: 504, according to Google Docs]