The Mountain Dew was 88 cents, so I gave in to old habits. Since bringing the jug home a few hours ago, I've easily had 3 glasses, all in my red, plastic Pizza-Hut cup. So now with the buzz only barely tempered by the blaze, I'm lying awake next to this thin, punctured, patchwork of glass.
I can feel cold air and the chill of the occasional snowflake on my arms (they're outside the heavy blankets) whenever the wind whistles into our house. The strong drafts come with the strong gusts of blowing snow discernible through the grating (welded across our view). And with each of the strong ones, the plants bounce and wiggle on the breeze.