The next day Yuki woke at what her clock insisted was dawn.
In truth, it was hard to tell anymore. Sunlight only appeared for a few hours each day, and the world had settled into a permanent gray twilight.
By now two months into the end of the old world, the snow no longer fell heavily each day. But the temperature was permanently below freezing. On the warmest days, one might feel the temperature slightly above zero.
But for the most part, the world had become devoid of warmth outside those few hearths that still burned bright in defiance of fate.
Yuki seldom had to worry about this. Dean had provided her the ultimate form of luxury in a new ice age that had brought the civilized world to an end. Food, water, warmth, shelter, power, and even entertainment existed for her without issue.
And when she did go outside, she wore multiple layers, designed perfectly to wick her own sweat and prevent outside moisture from penetrating within.
