The bells are ringing from the Sunday mass. It echos across the town, like an angelic, soft, warm, serene, angel, soaring across the top of the town. I lay here, cold, pressing against the snow, imagining your feet stepping on the same earth beneath me, while the cool, subtle. wind blows on my neck, feeling like your breath brushing up and nurturing my neck. It's surprisingly quiet here. Figuring children would be out, but they tend to others things, rather than the cold nature of seasonal changes. Quite a disoriented effect, with the snow, and the sky looking alike. I'm in another world, and a world that I cannot live with, or without.
