The First Frost

Dear Delyara, I woke up to a world covered in white. Not snow, but that delicate, crystalline frost that makes every blade of grass look like it’s been dipped in sugar. I walked out in my slippers just to feel the crunch. The air was so cold it hurt my lungs, but it felt clean. For a moment, all the messy, complicated problems of my week felt frozen too—still there, but quiet. I wish I could stay in the winter for a while longer.