A myriad of streetlights penetrate the night and reflect on the soft blanket of fresh snow and it feels as bright as if it were day. The cold air is crisp against my face as I walk. Although the snow has already been trampled it has yet to be soiled by dirty boots. It is clean, innocent in a way, and the party goers passing by in the other direction don’t annoy me like they normally would. It is, in as sense, a perfect night.