Snow beat down relentlessly on the city street, intermittently backlit by green and blue neon lights. The lights felt oddly familiar. My brain was too foggy to dredge the memory back up. I could hear Barry’s voice echo through my head. “Bring a hat, they’re giving heavy snow later!”. I had waved him off as I left the office, sure it would be a quick outing. If I’d only known, maybe I wouldn’t have left. Or maybe I would have.

I rolled my shoulders to wrap my coat closer around me and felt an ache come from every joint. I was running on fumes. Under the awning of a hotel, I took stock. Soaked, cold to the bone. Hadn’t had anything but 4 cups of coffee for the last 24 hours. More people looking for me than I could count.

A knock on the window pane behind me. I turn to face the receptionist of the hotel. A question written on their face. I shake my head, no, I’m not a guest here. Their question turns to a gesture. Shoo. Don’t darken this doorstep, it’s not for you. I gather myself and walk back into the snow. I can’t call for help. I’m up against pockets deep as they come, in a city where everyone is desperate to make ends meet. Every Tom, Dick and Harry that wasn’t afraid of some dirty work would be looking for me. Damn phones. It only took seconds to get a bounty out on someone.

The cold refuses to creep out the way it came, and it hangs in my veins like cement. The debate that’s been raging in the back of my head starts back up. Can I stop for help? Will an ER let me go back out here after they’ve patched me up? Do I have the time? And what if they find me there? Odds were I would never leave that place alive. Just as I decide I can’t afford to stop, my body weighs in. It’s argument is a sharp pain, shooting up from the shoddy, makeshift bandage around my right arm. It’s clear. Either I stop and get patched up, or my body stops for me.

Then it hits me. Why I know that neon sign. I’m just a block away. But if I darken that particular doorstep, the reception will be colder than anything the weather can throw at me. And I’ve burdened them enough for several lifetimes.