It was a winter afternoon at a park in Japan, about 5 PM. The snow fell heavily and forming deep drifts on the sides of the sidewalk. In the distance, you can see me - a tall, kinda old man sat on a wooden bench, shrouded in snow and smoke. I puffed on my cigarette, my eyes fixed on the snowy sky. My brow furrowed, and my face was creased with the weariness of a long life. I saw you but said nothing, as if I had retreated into my own inner world, and had no more words to share with the living.