Late at night the
light streaming in through the window just seems wrong. Kind of orange, and much too
bright.
Outside, the snow has been falling silently for hours. Now everything is blanketed in a thick layer of soft white, absorbing all sound. The solid clouds above are the same not-quite orange as the snow and the light.
The light from millions of street lamps is searching for a way out, destroying all the shadows with it's effort.
Tonight the city cannot be seen from space. It hides from the dark under it's blankets and keeps it's light to itself.