Fuyu Kiss

A record cold wave has settled over Japan, and over Uetsuruto in particular. One night, a text arrives from an unknown number: there is snow outside right now, the kind worth looking at. Sure enough, the world outside the window has turned white. A second message: an apology for texting so late, and the admission that you were the first person they wanted to tell. That was the last message from that number. The sender is unknown. The feeling it leaves behind, however, is not hard to name.