The wind and snow hit him in the face. Biting. It searched frantically for openings in his clothing. Any way in.
Walking to the party had seemed like a good idea. Earlier. Still, he was already halfway up his block and he had snow in his shoes.
Shoes that made no noise as he walked. No noise on an already silent street. He quickly hummed a little tune. He had no idea why he did it, or what the song was, but it was slightly reassuring.
He had been in a strange head space all day. He found himself reminiscing about past girlfriends, for no apparent reason. He decided that he dated like a sports franchise selects coaches: he was always going for someone completely opposite to the one that came before.
Then he realized that he hated pretty much every second girlfriend he ever had.
He flipped up his collar. It provided very little help in combating the elements.
As he turned right down another street, he noticed the slightly flickering sodium street light. It cast an orange otherworldly glow over the snow-covered everything. It did nothing to help his growing feeling of isolation, he thought, but it certainly was pretty.
The wind whipped up, as if opposed to him enjoying the scene. He turned and walked backwards into the gale for a few moments, looking closely at footprints clearly showing where he’d been.
He turned back to the virgin sidewalk snow ahead.
His face stung.
He passed by a pawn shop and briefly stopped to look at himself in the slightly-warped front window. He pondered whether or not chicks also dig emotional scars
He made a left turn and the wind immediately began to ease. The moon was hinting at an appearance through broken clouds.
He wondered if others were ever jealous of those who long? Of the unrequited lovers. Envious of their focus. Of the fact that they didn’t worry about the evil that is indifference and —
He’d have to save that for the walk home.
He was there.
He ran a hand through his wet hair. He put his collar down and his game face on.
He walked through the front door with a big smile.