The streets are cold. The sidewalks are empty and have remained stained and scuffed from thousands of people walking all over the colorless path. How many people have tried to get away from whence they came, only to find themselves on this very sidewalk pissed off knowing they can’t leave this city. It’s not cold enough to see my own breathe, but the cigarette smoke exhaling through my nostrils makes the glimmering sky look alive. Or rather, makes me feel alive.