There was something different about today. The chill in the air wasn't quite so biting and the sun overhead, despite the snow on the ground, gave warmth to the people below. Walking along the sidewalk, each with an intent and purpose, each with a destination, they all walked on.

The pre-noon quiet lay over the back alleys, perturbed only by the brushing of snow from the sidewalk by passerbys. Wrapped in coats, scarves, and hats, the pedestrians kept their faces down to avoid the occasional wind. A few among them looking up as they approached one another on the sidewalk.

A chromatic grey scarf was wrapped around one's face, eyes hidden occasionally by the glare on his glasses. His face did not turn down. Not as he approached others, nor as he walked alongside the road. Instead, it turned, facing each building, fence, and person in turn. Drinking in the feeling of being somewhere; the familiarity was there, but something else too.

Ducking into the large blocky federal building, he disappeard into the winding queues of the post office. A letter in hand, he delivered himself to the same cashier as he did every week. Cursive scrawl sprayed in blue across the envelope telling her what she already knew. Another letter to be sent, and another happy customer. As he thanked her and took the receipt he felt a calmness. A happiness that there existed ways in which his words could be transmitted to another so easily.

Stepping outside, he rejoined the flock of busy pedastrians as they migrated onward to their goals. His taking him to the grocery store and a bakery before finding himself in front of the mailbox. Retrieving the mail he found himself thinking the same thoughts as before. What a lovely thing it is that this is possible. Smiling, he stepped inside and began to fix breakfast.

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