The bushes hang heavy under the pressure of the ice.
Inside the heater tries to overcome the chill seeping from around the door and windows.
The Christmas lights wrapped tight around the trees outside seem abandoned. Darkened for the winter.
Hands shoved deep into pockets, heads down, swaddled in coats, gloves, scarves and boots, people hasten to their location, eager to get back indoors.
Even the music is melancholy.
It's quiet up here.
Quiet.
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