Writing Challenge of 2017- first entry cleaned and edited
Outside it is dark and cold, I observe through the window from my warm couch. The pale moon reflects off the crystal snow that fell a week past and has since frozen into a crusty shell. It is cold. The temperature hovers at 20 degrees, as if unsure whether to rise or fall. The sky is a deep charcoal grey, almost black. When the sun rises, it will pale to a light dove that no one will be able to truly enjoy. They sky is only visible through a thick smoke screen of yellowing smog. It will be this way until the next storm blows away the collected pollution and allows the valley to breathe once more.