The evening air was crisp, wrapping around me like a whisper of winters breath. Snowflakes, delicate as secrets, drifted from the velvet sky, each one dissolving into the hush of the night. The world had softened street lights glowing , their halos caught in the swirling dance of falling ice.
With each step, my boots pressed into the fresh snow, the sound a quiet symphony of crunch and hush, as if the earth itself was sighing under the weight of winters embrace. The scent of cold filled my lungs pure untouched, a fleeting reminder of something ancient and unspoken.
For a moment, I paused. Silence stretched in all directions, vast and unbroken. The snow fell in slow motion, and time itself seemed to yield, bending into stillness. Underneath the frozen sky, I felt small yet infinite, a wanderer in a world sculpted in white, where even the night seemed to hold its breath.
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