Cold nights

Exhaling the cold, I look out my window through the thin sheets that wrap around my head. The air is still and wet. I can hear muni cutting through the night turned violet by the orange street lights. The rains continue to poor and thrash the magnolia tree against my window. I drift into sleep. I awake at dawn to the sun gently opening my eyes. My roommate’s cat sits in the black leather armchair, peering out the window decorated with last night’s rain.