His icy feet, encased in ruined leather and wrapped in plastic bags, numbly stumbled through ashen snow of ankle depth. The cold would rob him of another toe or two soon.

Layers of ragged filthy scavenged clothes, insulated and waterproofed with garbage bags, became coated in melting gray snowflakes. A knotted beard hung full of black ice, hiding a sickly wheezing face full of despair. Exhausted, dull eyes scanned the horizon for threats or supplies.

Clean water, food, ammunition, intact winter clothing, shelter, or a glimmer of light became his obsessions. Need dominated his mind. Thoughts skittered about his skull like hungry rats, only gaining focus on the hunt for survival.

The past was a vague blur, pushed into incoherence by the terrifying realities of the present. There was no sunlight in the now. Only shades of gray and black existed in his world. Any memories of sunshine, growing plants, clean air, comfort, or safety seemed like delusional lies conjured by a man ready to quit.

Now is reality.