First Snow in Brooklyn

“Three weeks in Brooklyn and the sky turns white. You've never seen snow. Not in pictures — you've seen pictures. But this. Standing on the fire escape in your cousin's too-big coat, watching the city go quiet. The sound changes. Everything muffled. Flakes landing on your palm and vanishing. The bodega guy on the corner laughing at your face. Breath visible for the first time. Your hands hurt but you won't go inside. Not yet.”