Poppy walked up the stairs leading to her apartment building. Her nose was red from the December air, and her hair was thickly layered across her neck to try and pertain some warmth. The woman jogged as fast as she could without slipping. Her ratty work shoes with the worn heels did not do her justice as she slipped. The salt cushioned her fall like a dozen needles to the ass.

Poppy yelped as she fell. The folder that she had been clinging against her chest had fallen out of her hands. It landed beside her with a small thump. The paper folder became wet. The paper becoming fragile and like stale glue as the snow came in contact with it.

The papers began turning and getting a mix of water and salt on them. Poppy bit her lip and tried to compose herself. The people around her walked on.

One lady in a large, black coat spared her a glance before reluctantly getting back to gathering her four small children. Two of which were infants and being held against her hips as she walked.

Poppy composed herself and grabbed her folded. Her butt was cold and the ice below her started to thaw. Her body warmth was chilled as the water from the ice had absorbed into her underwear. Once the freezing moisture reached her skin, her bottom half felt like a snow plow.

She tried not to shiver before picking up her folder. Her fingers were becoming numb by the air. The cold shooting pain up in every nerve whenever her fingertips brushed against something. She pressed the folder against her chest again, and placed one hand on the railing.

Her fingers screamed as the railing touched them. The nerves prickling as the metal was as cold as the ice on the ground. Poppy began to walk up the stairs again. She walked slower this time, hopping to avoid another fall to her ass.

The mother of the children she had seen earlier spared her another glance. She then looked at the paper that had fallen out of Poppy's folder. Before she could get it for her, one of her children tugged at their rope. She has used a backpack and string to make sure her eldest children were never too far away from her. Some saw it as cruel, but she saw it as a psychological advancement.

Poppy got to the platform that lead to her building within 10 minutes. Her teeth were chattering end her nose was long numb. While she held her folder against her chest with one hand, her left hand reached into her bag. She fumbled with the contents of her purse for a minute. Her fingertips red as she scrambled for her keys.

The jagged edge of her keys hit her hand end she grabbed onto them. She picked the keys out with ease; the keys jangling together. As they clicked together, Poppy used her pinky to flick the keys she didn't need out of the way.

She unlocked the door and looked at her mailbox, which was eye level next to her door knob. She saw a sliver of an envelope inside and sighed. She threw the damp folder to the side table she kept beside her door. It landed as she tossed her purse to the opposite side. The open bag falling to the floor as she found her mailbox key on her key ring.

Poppy got her mail out and closed her box before heading inside. Her warm apartment was chilled at the doorway. The cold rush of air that entered as Poppy was collecting her mail had yet to fade before she walked in.

The dining room table greeted her and she started looking through the letters. Most of the letters were bills, but one of them stood out. The envelope was not white, but green. A pastel, light green with the writing on the back in sloppy cursive. The letters were in a jet black color.

Poppy "Poppyseed" Hanley
1327 Landgrabb Rd
Apartment 15
Lynx Hanley

Poppy put the letter on the table and looked at her watch. She would answer the letter later, she decided as she slid off her coat.