The little girl stared out the window, her check pressing against the cold clear pane of glass, watching the clustered ice droplets form and fall with dazzling beauty. She walked to the door pulling on her furry black boots and winter jacket, and opened the door and walked outside. Letting the biting cold snow fall on her face and hands, making them damp and wet. She stuck out her tongue and tasted the snow. It tasted salty and moist, like her mom’s scrambled eggs. Then she listened. The whispering winds sent shivers down the girl’s spine, and it was almost peaceful. The muted sounds of the snow falling on objects forgotten outside, a bike, a stuffed toy, and a cat, padding of its paws as it walked up to her.