For Soulful Struts down Gran Via

It's scarf, hat and mittens weather. The sky is a perfect robin's egg blue. Snow whispered threats, but the wind blew it away, revealing the mountains long lost behind the skyscrapers and smog.

I'll go for a walk.

The concrete and walls of windows will blind me with pearly light. The cold will numb my nose, cramp my lungs, and sting my cheeks. There will be static -- in my hair, crackling in my sweater and coat, between my finger and the metal door handle. But I feel like walking with purpose to anywhere.