I stepped off the church steps and into the snow. What had been inches was now feet. And I was suddenly reminded of how cold I was, as my tights grabbed the moisture and pulled it in, against my skin. The streets were not the same now. They were empty, dead. Even the sparkles in the snow seemed somehow lifeless; much in opposition to the pain that I had been feeling–even at the onset of the evening. There was a ringing of my ears. The crunch-crunch of my steps was all the noise I could take.

She took me to dinner at 3 AM. I, of course, ate nothing. The coffee was warm. And into it, my mind sank and sat at the bottom.

I woke up in another world. Still drunk.

I pictured myself running down the street with bare feet.

My heels slipping on the ice, red toenails glittering with every step. In my mind, I stood in the road with arms spread wide.

But the car swerves around me.

Oh well, it must be time to get up.