If you’ve ever walked down Fifth Avenue right as winter is losing its grip, then you already know the find this kind of morning gives you. That dull, heavy feeling where everything looks drained of life. No snow left to soften the streets, no holiday lights to distract you—just endless gray. Gray pavement, gray slush, grey everything… and a sky that looked like an old, worn-out blanket.
As for the wind… It didn’t just blow—it hunted. It found every tiny gap in your clothes, especially that space where your scarf never quite meets your chin.
