Ice-hearted

This morning, there was a nip in the air as I walked to work. The pavement glittered silver, the sun peeped through the bare, crystallised branches of trees, the fallen leaves on the ground were edged with white.

There I am, surrounded in the beautiful works of Jack Frost, and all I could think of was:

"Wow. I hope all the old people stay at home today."

I think I'm dead inside!

*8 hours later*

So the old people didn't stay at home today - within my first hour at work, I'd seen five elderly folk who'd wandered outside their homes, slipped on the sparkling icy streets, and wound up in front of me with broken hips.