White dots danced around the crooked brown fingers that shot up from the earth and relented like an arthritic old man. Nothing could remove the frailty from the earth on this morning.
Needles of silver stab at my skin and I walk with eyes closed relying heavily on the hand of God to guide me through this storm.
The familiar faces in the distance dissolve into the snow bank and I am left alone to fight the demons of winter. Each step is impeded by the weight of the snow, wind, ice and despair. I look for a ray of hope, yet I see only the absence of hue.
Alone, I walk away from my meager shed of protection into the nameless face of fear, into a colorless, desolate and deficient world.
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