Getting ahead of my own question when the door closed behind my back. I swear it's 30° colder   as I walk over this bridge. The wind blows through my clothes as if they weren't even there.   The wind blows, The wind blows.   If I was smart I'd get home as quickly as I could. I wouldn't drink this much coffee this late. My mind follows   paths of luck and my eyes survey what I pass. I must have heard this fifty times by now.   Time to buy a watch.