I am sitting outside the snow falling silently softly lands on my dark blue jeans. My surface body temperature cold enough for the minute flakes to linger. Seconds later melting into tiny water-spots covering my body: 99.2 degrees. The quiet beauty of snow silences the bustle of trailer-park repairs and renovations. I’ve fallen off the bandwagon today, this cigarette led me to the outside releasing me into this white world. Slowly puffing I regret torture done to my lungs as a wave of nausea brings me to my knees, repent. The dropped cigarette burns slowly into smoke down to the filter, carbon monoxide. From my knees, weak with pain, I retch defiling the soft, pure snow. Three days meals gone uneaten, pure acid wastes through the frozen ground. I rest lean back on my heels to settle the stomach, enjoy a moment in this winter. Our winter.