The cold brushed against my cheek as I walked through the cold park. My mind blank except the strong desire to get home and out of this snow.

It’s been snowing for days straight, nearing the biggest cold front we have experienced here in Boston. The fall is long gone, and with it our best season. The winter has never been quite this bad though.

I slip a bit going over a bridge, struggling to keep my footing. I make it over and collapse into an almost buried park bench. I’m already so tired from the cold, only about 4 miles, but in this weather and with only a light coat I am so lost and tired.

Something digs into my back and I slowly rotate to grab it: a golden locket. Weird. The latch is minuscule, and I take off my glove to open it. I touch it with my bare hand and the world around me slows down.

The snow is falling peacefully and quietly. I can see through the gaps in the storm, before they shifted in a moments notice. The air doesn’t seem quiet so cold with the wind just a gentle breeze...it’s like I’ve stepped out of this place just on the other side of a screen.

Off in the distance I see a blur of a shape. I step through the slow moving snow drifts toward it, slowly it becomes a silhouette, and beyond that it becomes a cat.

A soft furry baby, so small and precious. He huddles against the tree, just trying to stay warm. I pick him up and bring him into my coat, holding him against me. The locket disappears and the storm is back.

The kitty clings to my warmth, his paws are like ice and I strive to protect him from the storm. Just a small grey buddy, sweet as ever. The walk home seems much more urgent now.