through the blinding snowfall, you see it—a streetcar in the distance, its headlights barely piercing the storm. You narrow your eyes, focusing through the haze. The vehicle isn’t moving. As you step closer, you spot the transit driver outside, bundled in layers, struggling against the elements, trying to clear the road. The streetcar is stuck, caught in the grip of ice and gridlocked traffic.
You pause, watching. The city, for all its coldness, still carries signs of life.
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Rodeyo
