Getting ahead of my own question when the door closed 
behind my back. I swear it's 30 colderas I walk over this 
bridge. The wind blows through my clothes as if they 
weren't even there. The wind blows, The wind blows. If I 
was smart I'd get home as quickly as I could. I wouldn't 
drink this much coffee this late. My mind follows paths 
of luck and my eyes survey what I pass. I must have heard 
this fifty times by now. Time to buy a watch.