I have to ask how. Walking through the motions of another day. Something not right caught my eye. The death has been creeping along the face of the world. So why would a window be open? It's smaller than nothing out there. Anything left to live is slowly breathing it's last breath. Such is winter. She gives you opportunity. Life is sacred then. So when the frame passed my head, and the shadows flew threw the air, no hope was left in sight, until my past cuaght me up, and I found the ground with both legs this time.