She walked outside at night in November
Wind nibbling all the exposed parts and forgetting about the word 'mercy'
She wrapped her sweater tighter and pushed onward through the snow, just a few inches
In the sidewalk on the way to the coffee shop.
There was work to be done and she could see the amber fill of the light on the cement outside, pouring from the window and bathing the whole street in the glow.
She longed for warmth
Control,
Safety.
She longed for steam in her nostrils and heat in the palms of her hands that would radiate straight to her heart.
"I'm sorry, ma'am. We're closed."
The bells tinkled as the door shut.
And, once again, she was left empty.
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