I sat there staring out the dirty window, down onto the highway where cars were attempting to wade through the six inches of slushy brown snow.
I sat there staring out the dirty window, wrapped up in a sweater and a jacket and a scarf, clutching a cup of coffee that had long grown tepid, and for some reason, summer songs kept running through my head. Sweet acoustic melodies that dissipated into the air the same way the steam from my coffee had, swirling around my head in a cloud as thick as the slush that covered the ground outside.
It almost made me feel a little bit better. Even as the tiny, crowded coffee shop exhaled in a barage of laughter and excited chatter all around me, for some reason, all I could hear was a melancholy brand of sweet music.
I closed my eyes, and I could see myself in the sunshine instead of this long grey winter life. I thought I had forgotten the sound of your voice all those years ago, and yet, there it was, your voice, above the clatter and noise of my life, singing.