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Rains wash the streets day and night. By mid November, there is not a morning that does not start without a cape of fog wrapped around it. It seems like the sun has abandoned this place. After some time, rain turns into sleet. Then, one night in December, the air becomes cold enough for snowflakes to finally arrive. House rooftops slowly change their colour from red to white. The entire town is painted in shimmering glow. Even though it begins quietly, late in the evening, soon the blizzard picks up. The roads are completely covered and engines have to work harder to pull the cars through all that snow. When I look through my window, it is difficult to see anything else except waves of creamy white smudges.

So, I move away from the window, and turn on the heat in my room and rub my hands against each other. The book I have been reading for a week now is on my bed, in the same position as I left it couple of days ago. As I step into the kitchen, I search the shelves for a box of cocoa that I can make for myself. But, before I drink my hot cocoa and go to sleep, I decide that a walk through the snowy landscape of the town would be nice. Standing in front of a mirror, I adjust my scarf, and I make sure that my coat is properly buttoned. Finally, I put on my gloves and go out into the cold night.

What I immediately feel as I find myself outside is how heavy my shoes are. They are purposefully made for snow, but they are such weight to my feet and I have to move slowly through the small hills of white dust. The wind is not as strong as an hour ago, and I can see other people walking out of their houses to enjoy the scenery as I do. The winter lands her freezing kisses on my cheeks, and naturally, I blush in response. It whispers softly through the wind, as I continue my walk. There are no stars in the sky. The clouds have taken over, and snow continues to fall out of their laps all over the excited people in the streets.

My breath shivers in front of me as I inhale and exhale rhythmically. The snowfall screeches when the soles of my boots slightly sink into it with each step. Wandering further, I reach the less urbanized part of the town, with patches of fields between unfinished streets and roads. I stand at the line where one of the empty lots begins. Since there are only two lampposts nearby, and their light is quite weak, it seems that the field had no end. It appears to simply slip into the darkness in the distance, without any actual borders. It looks like a sparkly blanket, with a clean, undisturbed surface. That is why I do not want to be the one who would step on it first and ruined the harmony of it.

As I turn around, I notice that the sight in front of me is the one that you would see on greetings cards. The houses of pastel facades are snuggled under the layers of snow, while their windows emit warm, yellow light. Then, I remember my plans for a cup of hot cocoa and I leave the winter to its chilling dealings to head back home.

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