The frost lay thick on the glass. It was a white sheet. It hid the street. It hid the world. I pressed my hand to the pane. Cold. Sharp. A bite of ice. I am here. I am alone. The room is small. The air is still. There is no wind in the house. Only the hum of the walls. I sit in the chair. My back is straight. My hands are still. They are pale. They are mine.

I came from a place of rain. A place of green. Here it is grey. Here it is hard. The factory takes my time. It takes my breath. It takes my name. I am a number now. I am a hand. I am a tool. The foreman watches. He has a eye. A cold eye. He does not like us. He sees dirt. He sees waste. He sees a threat. I keep my head down. I work the loom. The shuttle flies. The thread pulls. The cloth grows. It is strong. It is tight. It is white. Like the frost.

I miss the rain. I miss the mud. I miss the smell of the earth. Here the earth is dead. It is under the stones. It is under the coal. I am an exile. I am far. The distance is wide. The sea is deep. I cannot go back. The money is gone. The ship is sold. I am trapped. I am bound. The iron holds. The steel binds. I am part of the machine. I am a gear. I turn. I grind. I wear away.

The winter comes. It is long. It is cruel. The heat is low. The stove ticks. It pops. It dies. We are cold. The children cry. They have no wool. They have no coats. The foreman says no. He says no to the fire. He says no to the coal. He says no to the warmth. He says yes to the clock. He says yes to the whistle. He says yes to the pain. I look at him. I see his face. He is fat. He is soft. He is warm. He sits in the office. The door is closed. The air is thick. I am outside. I am in the cold.

I hate him. It is a fire. It is a burn. It is in my chest. It is in my blood. It eats me. I want to break. I want to smash. I want to tear. I look at the glass again. The frost is thick. It is beautiful. It is deadly. It covers the world. It makes it new. It makes it white. I think of the snow. I think of the ice. I think of the fall.

The night is dark. The moon is out. It is a eye. It watches. It does not blink. It does not care. It sees all. It sees me. I am small. I am dark. I am a shadow. The wind blows. It howls. It screams. It is angry. It is wild. It is free. I am not free. I am held. I am kept. I am caged. The bars are steel. The lock is iron. The key is lost.

I go to the window. I open the latch. The cold hits me. It is a wall. It is a wave. I step out. The snow is deep. It is soft. It is silent. It covers the ground. It covers the street. It covers the path. I walk. I walk alone. The snow crunches. It is loud. It is clear. It is sharp. I walk to the edge. I look down. The alley is dark. The roof is high. The drop is long. The air is thin.

I see the light. It is yellow. It is warm. It is in the office. I see the shape. It is the foreman. He sits. He writes. He drinks. He is alive. He is safe. He is warm. I am cold. I am hungry. I am tired. I am broken. I look at the roof. It is steep. It is slick. It is high. I look at the ground. It is far. It is hard. It is stone.

I climb. My hands are stiff. The wood is slick. The snow is wet. It slips. It slips. I hold on. I hold on. The wind pulls. The cold bites. My fingers hurt. My eyes sting. I am up. I am high. The world is far. The world is small. The lights are stars. The moon is a eye. I look at the foreman. He is still. He is blind. He does not see. He does not know. He is safe.

I stand on the edge. The air is still. The cold is deep. I am alone. I am free. The frost is on my face. It is on my lips. It is in my mouth. I taste it. It is sweet. It is sharp. It is clean. I am clean. I am white. I am new. I am the snow. I am the ice. I am the fall.

I jump.

The air is loud. It is a scream. It is a song. It is a cry. I fall. I fall. The wind is a hand. It pushes. It pulls. It holds. I am light. I am a leaf. I am a feather. I am a ghost. The lights blur. The world spins. The moon is a eye. It closes. It opens. It sees. It sees all.

I hit the snow. It is soft. It is deep. It is silent. It takes me. It holds me. It covers me. It is warm. It is cold. It is both. I am in the snow. I am in the ice. I am in the frost. I am one. I am whole. I am free. The pain is gone. The hate is gone. The fear is gone. I am still. I am quiet. I am white.

The foreman comes out. He sees the snow. He sees the shape. He sees the white. He stops. He is still. He is cold. He is silent. He looks. He does not know. He does not understand. He is blind. He is deaf. He is dumb. He stands there. The wind blows. The snow falls. The night is long. The dark is deep.

I am in the snow. I am in the ice. I am in the frost. I am the white. I am the cold. I am the end. The machine stops. The wheel stops. The time stops. I am free. I am gone. I am here. I am nowhere. I am everywhere. The frost grows. The frost spreads. The frost covers. The frost hides. The frost is white. The frost is clean. The frost is me.