Day Eight Hundred Forty Five #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I swung around at the first puff of a breeze on the back of my neck. Floating on its variable current, snowflakes fluttered as though down from the moon. I stood enraptured, following the ephemeral choreography and brushing away accumulations from my eyes and beard.

The spell was broken when the moon hid behind the clouds, and I looked down to see my feet covered up to the ankles.

I turned back only to discover that Elijah had continued on, his form just visible in the swirl.

I had to run to catch up.

He chuckled as I rejoined him, saying, “The view is just as good forward.”

And added, “Enjoy, it’ll be gone by second watch.”

And it was.

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