11 pm.

It's getting colder by the minute. The temperature must have dropped below 32 F by now.

The sky is completely clear. The milky way is stretched out before my eyes like an endless ocean. I haven't seen it like this in months. There's still a couple of inches of snow on the ground and on the trees and bushes, covering them securely with a blanket of white silk, and the moonbeams bathe the whole garden in a beautiful silver light.

Everything looks so peaceful. As if the entire universe had laid itself to rest.

They say dying of hypothermia is peaceful. You just fall asleep, and then your organs shut down, one after the other.

We'll see.