I had to go, to break from life and what is supposed to be; I had to go into the world. I felt the flakes as they floated down into my eyelashes and landed quietly on my tongue. I drank in its glory and a tear fell off my eye, and I felt it's warmth on my cheek. A promise, a hope, that winter will once again cleanse my soul and everything that was wrong shall be right again.
And it shall.
Sunday. At Noon.
The bell will ring, the rope will drop, and all that we have been waiting for will once again.
Winter is here.
And tomorrow we ski.