The snow came down in big flakes. He looked up and watched them fall oh-so-randomly from the sky and a few balanced themselves precariously on the curves of his face.
He wasn't sure he liked snow. It did, after all, prevent him from riding his motorcycle. The wind shifted and he berried his neck into his scarf in response to the icy chill that shot up his spine. This was the kind of snow he looked forward to, the kind of snow that blanked all the cars of PPTH's parking lot to the point where the details were so obscured that he couldn't tell a Porsche from a Pinto.
He guessed it was the equalizing effect that the snow had that really interested him. Even he, a jaded old man couldn't deny the novelty of the stuff. As he waddled to his car, cane held uselessly out for balance, he allowed himself a small smile.
"Drive carefully." Cuddy warned as she waddled by, breaking the mystic and impossible silence of the snow.
"Right." He replied, dimly brushing the snow off the side of his car and connecting key to lock.
He wasn't in a hurry to get home anyway. He wanted to linger on this snow as long as possible.