I look out my window as the clock strikes 12. I see the shadow of yellow bulbs held high above the road. The flickering bulbs beams in the corner of my window show the elongated shadows cast from the varies shapes of objects sitting on my window sill. I hear the howling wind rustling through the trees. An outline of glowing constellations shines in the heavens above me and illuminates the parked cars lining the ice-stricken road. Frost settles upon the moist grass, visible when staring out my window which is now covered in condensation. My open palm presses against the glass and clears the moisture so I’m able to see out again. Time seems to flyby and I see the faint shimmer of yet another morning sun rising.