The world outside the window is bleak and grey. The bare tree trunks form grey shadows against the milky white sky, the thin branches radiating skywards like so many fingers. The buildings in the distance look deserted, like empty shells. We pass over some water but it is inky black, not a ripple on the surface, with sheets of broken ice floating dismally by the edge. The ground, clear of snow and ice despite the season is either a naked soil black or covered in sickly yellow grass. The dead world outside mirrors the emptiness inside me, a desolation of the soul brought about by the absence of a certain girl by my side. Sigh…