the sky was a little darker than it was the last week, she noted as she left her apartment building. this was another reminder of the unremitting dark and cold that would take seige for months.

she walked hurriedly toward her breakfast spot, as she had done countless times. she felt frozen, yet saw life rushing past her.  other early risers bustled by on foot, some in cars,  just going, no peripheral vision, just focused on their destination. no stopping to smell the roses, but perhaps trampling any that might get in their way.

her path crossed two acquaintances, all nodded then kept on going.

so this was that life of quiet desparation that her father told her most people lived. he conveyed that acceptance of this was the only way to be comfortable on this earth.  part of her felt that accepting this slow, dull rush to the grave was a form of defeat. a square peg on a round planet indeed i am, she thought.