It was snowing. It always seemed to be snowing, but it had gotten worse. Now it was red. The civil war had escalated and the world weeped in response.

It had been years since the snow had been white. Years since the first generation fighting the war had died. It had been years since I’d seen them. Years since they had seen me.

I remember seeing them disappear into the haze of steaming snow, the snow had only been a faint pink then. I remember watching them turn their backs on me.

Everything seemed bloody now. Everything had taken a side. Every decomposing body became part of the atmosphere.

The world had been falling apart for far too long. I never saw a time of a white snow. But I have heard it was truly beautiful.

I just want to see the snow fall in a white blanket, once.

Maybe someday.