My footfalls echo in the cool night air. There are stars above fighting for sky time with some unseemly looking clouds. A wind whips me in a frenzy, telling me to move on. Instead the air enters my lungs and I consume it readily. Each passing step places me closer to my destination, whatever it may be.

I don't know what was said, but I know that words were spoken. The look in her eyes betrayed the fact that something had occurred. I just didn't know what, and she wasn't about to release these details into my custody. It was bad, or at least it was something that she felt would upset me. A question became entrenched in my mind: if it is something that will upset me, do I want to hear it come from her lips?

Scattered snowflakes are fluttering down about me. I just realized that I had stopped walking. I'm not sure why. The wind grew tired with me and is now playing with the poor snowflakes, tossing them about like a grade-school bully stumbling upon the math club.