where would my baby be.

it was the earliest snow of the season, perhaps even of the decade. never had it snowed in the middle of november and as i stood by a lonely window in a room painted blue, i wondered what could ever be more magical than fluffy cotton balls falling noiselessly on a wet ground, carpeting every inch in sight unless everything around you is an angelic shade of white.

but then i thought of you standing next to me, your hair filled with white beads and your nose red as you pull my hood over my head.

and i knew.