Colder

Not so long ago, when I worked here for the first time, it seemed like the cold came sooner. Now, the warm days extend into Indian summers and there doesn't seem to be a real winter anymore. Back then, I'd stand by the window, peering out at the recently-fallen traces of snow on the concrete, and I'd miss a girl. Then I'd sit down and write her poetry. And it'd either be good or bad, but it didn't matter, because I had the cold weather to keep me company. I'd walk to the bakery in the middle of the afternoon. Their coffee tasted like shit, but that was fine. It wasn't the coffee I craved. I wanted the taste of the wind. The feel of the snow. It was company for my pain. And I liked that. Somehow, it made me feel less alone.