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She crossed over a road, leading to the new apartment where she was staying. Concentrating hard on the road where she was leading to to not realise that she was freezing cold.

She did not think that she had to walk all the way back, did not think that her legs will give way. The tram had broken down due to "icycles forming at the electric cable. Situation has now calmed down, but the bus passengers trapped will have to find another way home. Maintenance will be in a moment." It came blaring out from televisions who had just captured them live. She didn't stop to think, just wanted to walk away from the crowd.

It was cold. She didn't wear any gloves on her way back. She cursed herself for not listening to the radio. Then again, "chilly" could have meant something significant. But it didn't for her.

It didn't for any person from her country trying to fit themselves into Washington D.C. And the residents themselves wore gloves.

She reached into her pocket to retrieve a box of cigarettes. Pall Mall, green, 12 sticks. She needed a puff to get herself warm. She flipped it open, only to find it empty. Her last smoke was before she boarded the tram.

Christ, she cursed out loud, before realising that she had unknowingly adopted the local slang. But she still receive many stares due to her Asian features, her long black and slightly curly hair, her taste of clothing, her constant frown. What is the fascination with Asians and their smiles? Jesus.

There it is again, she had been using Jesus Christ as her shield for foul language, even though she hardly embraced the religion. But it was a constant way to swear in this city of "civil manners". The capital of the USA may not be as rowdy as New York, but she still sees resemblance between the two.

She passed by a restaurant, and stopped to look. Cooks, kitchen helpers, busy marinating turkeys with main ingredients. She saw basil as one of it, and was painfully reminded with her friend of the same name back home. Wonder how was his band gigs coming along?

And the turkeys, she wondered. Even though it didn't mean much to her culture, eating turkeys with loved ones seems like a very "family warming" event, in her opinion. And since it was nearing that time of the year, it seemed pretty average, plus, if they do not be quick, they will not finished stuffing the turkeys, and that restaurant is most famous for their big, stuffed, deliciously roasted turkeys.

She walked around a park, where she sees children playing around with mini sleighs, kids who proudly show their parent their snowy achievements. The lake wasn't hardenned enough for skating, hence children were seen trying their best to break the thin iced layer. It may not be suitable for skaters yet, but it is still incapable of breaking with pebbles.

As she was back to the bustling city, and she stopped by to catch her breath. The walk from the last stop where the tram had stalled till this stretch of the city was pretty long. She looked at a homeless man, picking out garbage from the dustbin. She knows the habit of calling garbage "trash" in the country she's currently living, but she felt it was degradetory. The homeless man was seen nicking out whatever was edible, and a bypasser saw the pitiful sight of that tramp, and decided to give him a US dollar. He took the money, and cursed. Thankfully, the bypasser did not understand a single thing he said, which was, ironically Cantonese. She looked on with a bemused expression that a Caucasion tramp could converse Cantonese so well like it is his mother tongue. Then she heard the buzzing sounds signalling pedestrians to cross over, and she did.

She stepped up to her apartment, keys clinking with a worn out spider next to it. And the room was openned, to the many kinds of rubbish she had piled up. The heater was filled with what was already dried up from the previous snowstorm, and she felt lucky that today wasn't it.

She picked up a few clothings, and then switch on her laptop. She randomly checked a few emails, one from her mother, telling her that grandmother finally passed on. Her heart sank, but she knew her grandma has gone on to a better place.

Then she read another email from him. She smiled, and, feeling nostalgic, she clicked on the pictures they took from New York Times Square. That was the only time he went to visit her, and that was three years ago. She was adamant on staying here, and his work commitments are back at the home country. Their relationship didn't go well, hanging on a thread of promise. Her boyfriend (or soon to be ex) had proposed to her, but she don't really know what was her decision.

She had too many secrets lingering here to tell him. She didn't tell him that she took up smoking, she didn't tell him that she's seeing someone, errr, make that, three someones. She started applying for a PR here. The Washington Post decided to make her Head Journalist. And she wondered why she carried on harbouring hopes on something she will lose anyway? And damn it, why isn't he seeing someone else yet?

All these pent up frustrations continued to sting her eyes, and she took out a mini bottle of Kahlua to take a sip. Then, she unraveled her new box of Pall Mall, and with a light click, smoke was coming out of her mouth. Humming to a new tune, she started typing away before she submit another article. Hopefully this time, she gets a Pulitzer.

She was embracing Loneliness, and she liked it.