Corrupted Nature

Frost sped through a deserted town, freezing asphalt roads and concrete buildings. The wind that carried the icy chill had an almost sinister feel to it, with emotions of spite and malice practically curling and twisting old, dead tree branches into horrible characatures of their old selves. And, amid the corruption nature brought to this old town, I stood waiting for something, or someone, or any number of plausible events that probability dictated could happen. Though, to be honest, probability had been wrong before. I hoped it would be wrong again.