She put on her coat. The coat was a military green cotton coat, ripped off a corpse. It was too big. The sleeves were rolled up three times, and an old towel was stuffed into the collar to keep out the wind. He was wearing two layers of thermal pants underneath, and a pair of overalls on the outermost layer, with patches on his knees and buttocks. On his feet were high-top rubber shoes stuffed with hay and rag strips. She put on her shoes in the dark, walked to the cellar door, put her ear to the door panel and listened for a while. There was no movement outside, so she pulled the latch and opened the door a crack.
The cold wind squeezed in through the crack of the door like a knife, instantly blowing away the heat from her face. She squinted and looked out. Outside the door is a narrow corridor. At the end of the corridor is a half-collapsed unit door. The light from outside the door penetrates through the cracks of broken glass and collapsed walls, illuminating the corridor like an overexposed film. The snow is reflective and there is snow everywhere. The snow has rounded off all the edges and corners of the ruins, making them look soft but can actually kill you.
