The Dying Day

During the night there was nothing to do and that was unfourtante because at night I felt most awake.
It was cold and the weatherman kept mentioning the snow storm.
"Don't bother going out tonight," he said, explaing the windchill factor. But that did little to help me, or sway me.
I left anyways.
And when I left I regretted it (I hate to regret) because in the cold night outside there was nothing good to be found, no adventure or peace of mind, and I ended up running into a monster that I didn't need to see, not on that night anyways.
I was on my phone and calling and talking and making conversation in an attempt to kick-start the night. It was too late. The day was dying and with it the goodness of people and as the day lay on it's daily death bed, that evening, and the cold night came to carry it to tomorrow, the people of the world went the same way and said such to me. And I was alone in the world. That's when I knew the weatherman was right.
In that transition between today and tomorrow, when I felt the most awake, the monster came, appearing at the horizon as just a silhoutte. The other day I wondered where he had been, wondered if I had lost him and as he approached me, through the darkness, I remembered that you never really lose the monsters in your life.
At that point I was standing under a streetlight with my coat zipped up because the windchill was unbarable, and I had one hand in my pocket and the other blitzing through the keypad of my phone, trying to send a text message as fast as I could in order to get that hand back into the warmth of my pocket, alongside his com-patriot. The monster approached.
I say "monster" because I truly mean monster, or beast, or fiend, or whatever other names you'd like to give him.
He bothers me to death, he really does, because he is always hunched over, always huffing and snarling, his lips always pulled back in a sneer, his eyes always sharp and squinting and his brow always arched and angry. His silver mane waved in the chill wind and he would routinely spread his claws, I figure to show them off. His jagged teeth were the real sight to see.
I was talking on the phone, then, angry at her for being the way she always is and telling her just that and at that exact momment she hung up on me (in the middle of pissed-off rant by me) and at that exact momment the monster walked into the beam of streetlight along side me.
A black cat came sniffing at our feet.
I sighed and thought to myseld that I hate people. I hate the way we treat each other and the way we end up up-ending each other's lives. Courtesy is a lost art.
And then the snow storm started, slight at first, but picking up with the wind and blasting the countryside and frosting everything around us.
And I took a deep breath and exhaled and shook off the coldness of the world and just...walked away, hating the weatherman for being right.
Snow Storm. Brings me back to the norm.
But this melody. Seems to stay with me.