There was a man once, a long time ago, maybe it was yesterday, he cried at night, alone, in a room on a bottom floor as the snow fell outside is window. As the snow grew deeper the moonlight reflected off the surface and made the night shine and glow. In the glass window the man could see himself as if in a mirror, transparent and gray. See through. He did not know why he cried, for himself he guessed; maybe for what he thought he should be. He walked outside then, in the snow. His bare feet were cold.