I found her sitting alone in the gentle snowfall, facing away. She wore a white woolen cap below which her black hair hung carelessly, speckled with tiny particles of snow. I could hear her muffled sobs in the silence.
Unable to find my words, I sat down beside her. She wiped a tear and held out a mittened hand. A snowflake landed softly on the wool and I watched it melt into the warmth.
Why is everything beautiful so fragile?