View from my window

Snow dances as I stare out across the street. Specks of white fly past as they continue their inevitable descent to earth. But like dust they swirl, floating up then down, flowing with every change in the wind. Yet downwards they must eventually fall, for there is no other way for them to go.

As the moments pass the ground beneath me begins to change, a cold black grey soon replaced by white.

The city is swiftly transformed into something else.