Thinking of the winters growing up in NY. Cold grey blue skies, ice and slush in the roads, shoveled paths around the car. The nostalgia is not lost on me.

Local homes on a dead-end street. A red building pizza shop with a loose banner sign blowing in the wind. The apartment is upstairs with the stairs around the back. The car mechanic on the corner with vehicles always parked outside. Quiet. Seeing your breath with every exhale. Your car sits alone without a streetlight to keep company and only the light bluish glow of reflection from the snow to illuminate. Does this place exist anymore?