February There’s frost on my windscreen like a transparent sheet of glitter, and if it catches the moon at exactly the right moment, it lights up my entire street. Damn, I hate the dark mornings and the cold on my fingertips. I wait for the de-icer to dissolve glitter like rain drops in the snow. My mind wanders to you as I ease away from the curb. I matched with you last night. Do you remember how you felt when I responded to your message?