The coat of snow that fell early this morning is trampled down by the constant flow of wooley bundled children on their way to the school. The sidewalk in front of my apartment is covered in slush, ice, gravel, sand, salt, and the general despondency of a long winter’s malcontent.
My boot toe catches on a partially frozen child’s mitten, slowly rising to the top of the filthy mush. Dirty beyond belief, it lies there dejected, forgotten, oh so lonely. No longer capable of calling its twin, who undoubtedly is abandoned in some overflowing school lost-and-found box around the corner from its match.