The gentle snow was slowly falling from the darkest black sky. Wind was stirring snowflakes making them dance. The street was empty, only streetlights shed some light to the world underneath. Only one trace of footprints was disturbing this calm party of nature. These were clear and orderly marks of small rushing feet. These feet had passed this street only a few moments ago. If one listened really hard, one could still hear the heartbeats of the girl attached to these feet, see her hands pulling her coat tighter against her body. If one could read her mind, one would have seen the bitter emptiness of her thoughts, felt the longing squeezing her heart. But there was no-one to listen. No-one to see and feel. Only one line of footprints went through the fresh and fragile snow...