Walking. Mid-winter snow laces the sidewalks and roads, and ice sprawls out over the grass. There is one bird high in a tree. She begins to warble out a tune, the only one for miles. The music comes to an abrupt stop. Walking under the tree. She hears the footsteps. She is scared away. The sudden quiet overwhelms, the lashing wind being the only company to give. Nearing the forest, seeing a line of smoke emerging from the pines, the source being about a mile out ahead. Shivering in the cold. Must buy a new winter jacket. Needing to save up money. Thinking that putting in more hours at the factory might be the safest way.