As I walked through the cold

As I walked through the cold, lonely street, I decided to take a shortcut home. Making a sharp right, I was headed down an alleyway, which was dark and sinister. Mist was slowly rising upward from the ground, which appeared yellowish from the reflection of one flickering light, almost at the point of burning out. The only sounds of the night came from my own feet dragging over the many pebbles and stones on the cement and from a stray cat who lingered near a dumpster looking for scraps of food. The breeze was very bitter and piercing upon my body, feeling like a thousand needles hitting my flesh.