Unfinished

The white taxicab stood in stark contrast beside the stereotypical yellow cabs that had illegally jammed themselves into spots at the curbside, their hazard lights illuminating the evidence of a snowstorm that was beginning its first dusting of the quaint Harvard Square station. This was my first time ever witnessing snow but I was too preoccupied to give the occasion much thought as I sought out the inbound train entrance. The hair on my exposed arms stood at attention to cover them in tiny pinpricks of cold. As I took shelter within the noisy, smelly, but graciously warm underground tunnel, I half-heartedly fiddled with the hospital bracelet around my wrist.