I was sitting in an armchair at the back of the library, staring through the window at the dead flowerbeds, the snow melting into pools and dripping everywhere like God's hand had taken the land and wrung its neck.
I felt it, even inside. The cold. The dripping.
You felt it too, miles away. I heard it live inside your breaths. I heard it sliding down your face.
And I just sat there and watched the world drown.