What is it about the fresh fallen snow that makes me think of blood? Dark red dots that get tight around the edges as they freeze. The drops pull under just a bit at their edges, you could take a piece of paper and slip it under, between the snow and the blood, dip a feather point breaking the surface tension just enough to get to the goods. I’d use that quill to sign the RSVP to your birthday party, “Not attending.” Then I think about Huck Botko and his horror-show short films. Using semen from hepatitis infected men to make a nice meringue topped pie for his relatives. Decorating a cake with blood from homeless junkies. The same red on top of white like the blood on the snow. This is going to be a long ride home. I’m ready to fight.