The night was frigid. The winds had picked up to about 15 to 20 kilometers and the temperature had of course dropped down to about minus twenty to minus twenty-five. Scott had been at a party with friends and had gotten somewhat drunk off all of the booze he'd had. A rocker through and through he had on a t-shirt over top a long sleeve and a leatherjacket, ripped up jeans and running shoes. Not the greatest for the conditions in which he was walking home in. The day had been warmer as well as it had not been snowing when he made his way up into town from the one just south of it.
With no hat on his long hair blew freely in the wind but his ears were being assailed by the frigid temperatures and reaching Yonge street he stuck out his thumb
With no hat on his long hair blew freely in the wind but his ears were being assailed by the frigid temperatures and reaching Yonge street he stuck out his thumb