Freezing rain and soaking snow pour down like angel piss. White powder clings to the black towers and trusses on the roof of the mental hospital. Wind howls through the back of the elevated train platform. The chill creeps through every layer of clothing. When I woke up the skylight was blotted out. Now it's 4:30AM and we seem to have a leak. It's not winter yet, but it's already Darkthrone season. Hail!