It was a snowy December morning. You decided to go on a walk in the snow, to clear your head.

You were walking along a path in the park, hands in your pockets, breath fogging up in the cold air.

It was empty; with it being so cold outside.

But there was someone.

A teenage girl. Sitting under a tree in the snow, bundled in a warm coat, wearing a skirt with warm tights, eating a pomegranate, the red juices staining the white ground.