Beyond the large pane window, trees shake and lean, while the wind rocks back and forth on the swing set. The hot sun seems as though it could melt the dwindling snow scattered across our lawn and ice that has clung to our driveway. The temperature is eighteen degrees, but it’s the feels like that has finely risen above negative. I can feel the difference, but I really can’t. From my view I hear the wind beat against the brick while the chill hangs in the room as fleece mummies my body.