Blood and snow

The day was cold. Not colder than usual and non the less I have my reasons to believe it seemed so cold to me because of the inner battle against nostalgia. I still could have been a part of a fairy tale but there I was, poignantly going back to the same mundane nonsense I resented so much. It was still early in the morning as I twined the warm scarf around my neck. I felt that horrible, eminent fear of the nothingness that was my daily routine. The streets were still covered with ice after the last snowfall. And just as I was getting ready to sink into my protective mind realm of isolation I saw it.
I always got that strange feeling at the sight of blood stains up on the white snow. Not fear, rather the anxious anticipation of grief to overcome me. The first thing that forms as a though, no, a plea even, it that there would be no more blood further. Sadly, there was no one there to answer my prayers and after two more steps - another blood trail. I couldn't get my eyes of the bloody red and how it contrasted to the white, innocent snow. There were in the shape of dog paws, only one, by the looks of it. And the trail went on, as if following my route, or was I following its. The thoughts and images that rushed into my mind were disturbingly clear. The poor thing must have been in so much pain and weakened by the blood loss. I could almost feel its fear, as I walked its way. With every other step I felt the possible horror if seeing the poor dog, lying dead on the side of the road. I felt such impossible tragedy, as if my own life was going to end any minute now. The crimson trail gave the feeling of inevitability...
And then I heard barks out from the bushes, on the left side of the street - just were the trail was leading. Two dogs were barking at each other but neither one wounded. There was only one thing to be assumed. The dead dog was lying there, drained of blood and neglected by pure human impartiality.
I knew I could not stand the sight of the dead creature, not because I was disgusted, but because I felt I would break down. So I went on, leaving the barking over a dead body dogs behind me. Even then I knew I won't be able to delete the vision of the bloody trail off my mind. Last night a life was lost. And besides the two dogs, I was the only one that aware of it.
I don't hate snow, I don't even dislike it but I fear it. For as some people adore how it leaves a clean blanket over the darkness and filth of the world, I know that snow doesn't cover anything. It only always brings out that, what we least want to see.