Insidious is blind inception. I don't think I know the true distance I have traveled for fog has lain over this lonely road. Even though I bend my shoulder against the cold wind, it penetrates my tired body further. I look in all directions, seeking a mile marker, but see only hazy fog. I walk, but as a blind man. I don't know where I'm going, but I remember where I came from.

 I remember the sight of sunlit corridors and the sound of children's laughter through the open window. I remember fondly. I step ahead with sickening nostalgia. I could not have left those warm days and warm faces without the promise of return. For now I stand out in the wind with only my memory and wit about me. I don't look back with sadness or grief, but with the promise of a future. My first step out of the familiar mansion was one step back towards it. I'll come back to you, dear, dear home. 

For now I must learn from the cold. In these days, I must delight in the frostbitten world. I must find shelter in the storm and warmth in the wind's embrace. Perhaps I will soon hear the whispers of company on the whirling wind. May I learn to hear gentle murmurs in the howling storm and find direction in the fog. The warm light of home beckons me onward. Even while it's piercing light is dispelled by the snowy haze, I'll learn to read my way.