Robyn Bonner

A Chance Encounter

Even years later, I remember the wind being sharp as a blade the day it all started for us. Heavy clouds hung oppressively in the atmosphere, accompanied by light snow that fit seamlessly with an already frigid February afternoon. The wind chill was nearly overpowering. The cold was there to greet me as soon as I left the comfort of my dorm room, fully prepared to tag along for as long as I was stupid enough to remain outside and within its grasp. Despite the weather, campus still managed to remain picturesque in its own right – with frost covered trees swaying, unblemished snow on the lawns where we tailgated during football season, and paved walkways slick with ice under a gray sky. Clusters of students were moving every which way, walking a bit more gingerly over unsalted sidewalks. A few braver souls even zoomed by on bikes, riding at a speed that I figured just about confirmed their insanity. I was about two minutes into my fifteen-minute trek, and the regret over not waiting for a nice heated bus was nearly palpable. My mood darkened as almost each step I took prompted an involuntary shudder and a quiet curse.