It's cold. Sarah placed her hands in the snow until they came up in strawberry slush. Not reacting to this. She had become immune to everything. Eyes wide. Her eyes were huge and empty as a summer sky. Cherry stains don't come off easily Sarah, and she ran back inside. He was still sitting there. Him with the beer can limp in his hand, staining the floor. Him with the slumped body and the cold uncaring eyes staring right back into Sarahs own. He didn't care, did he? He wouldn't anymore. She couldn't look another second and ran back into the snow as her jeans soaked up the frost. The rose handprints were still there. Someone was screaming so loud and wouldn't st...SHUT UP. No need to raise your voice Sarah. We are here to help. Screams in the background continued. The sun span into a blue sphere as the screaming slowed to a stop. Figures came rushing out and advanced me with a bed but stopped and a different screaming started up. The house door was wide open and his chair was facing the door. Fat. String vesr. Bald. Eyes wide open yet dead as his cigarette that still hung in his mouth by a thread of saliva. He looked so suprised. He had looked suprised for the last 18 minutes. Why was he suprised? Why should he? He fell forward and was momentarily proped up by the blade, before slumping to one side. He's dead Sarah. He's dead and you killed him. As the sun carried her away she watched herself wave goodbye from her doorstep, over the lipstick ice and friendly cold air.