The air in my lungs leaves me in a clouded burst. White fog tinged with pain, bitter cold misery. It laps up this atmosphere and trickles back into my soul. I welcome it with reverence, knees clasped and hands grasping onto that solace. I feel free without it, feel like nothing without it. I don’t know whether I’m hot or cold, but my body warms up at the thought of it. Oh those shadows, that old acquaintance, I gladly receive your presage.