As I drive, I took in my surroundings. The dark sky, slowly turning light, spread above Orlando like a blurred glass, with silhouette of leafless branches of apple trees as cracks disrupting the eerie winter whiteness. The contrast is astounding. Mysterious, yet beautiful. Something so known to me. Snow covered the highway, but it was nothing too deep. The air was a lovely kind of quiet, but I want to drown my thoughts even before they come, or else I’ll never stop thinking. I turned my radio on, praying to God I don’t hear a single stupid pop song. Switching stations, I grew impatient with the static, white noises flooding my ears. As I was just about to turn it off, a rather familiar, but annoying voice of a male anchor echoed in my car,
