To her, snow had a very distinctive sound. That afternoon, it made her turn to the window suddenly, just in time to see the first few flakes drop from the sky – so unusual this time of year.
‘Are you still listening?’ the voice behind her roared.
It was falling hard now. A smile washed over her face. She started to cry. The monotonous view of the city beneath her was awash with sparkling specs, like an ice cream being dusted with sprinkles.
‘So that’s it then, is it?’ he bellowed.
With not so much as a gaze in his direction, she retreated from the window silently, collected her box and walked into the lift for the very last time.
The blizzard would only last a few hours. The following day the buds would catch their breath. Never again in her life would she hear snow in the springtime.