Ivan stared out the window, the frost gathering heavily on the glass, making it difficult to see outside. A shiver ran down his spine. It would be another frigid day to add to the easily growing collection. Perhaps a good day to build a snowman…

He moved to the bathroom, looking into the foggy mirror, granting himself an odd looking grin. His lips bunched together at the right side of his mouth, making the smile uneven. One of his hands searched through the drawer below him, removing a comb. Slowly and precisely, he brushed through his fair locks, hair falling before his eyes. He would have to cut it soon…

His eyes drifted to the picture of Yao he had posted to the corner of the mirror. A single piece of yellowing scotch tape held it in place, and the picture itself was quite old. It was in black and white with the Chinese man smiling in the center. Seeing his face made Ivan's lips curl at the edges. It had been a few days since he had written to him…Maybe he didn't receive the last letter.

Ivan put on his normal clothing, feeling slightly warmer now that his skin wasn't bare. As soon as he was finished dressing, he searched for an empty sheet of paper and pen, finally finding both in an old letter box under his bed. The parchment was collecting dust, but it didn't matter. It was blank. Before he could even sit down, he began etching down a message. Although he rarely spoke, he seemed to have a lot to say.

He blew on the dampening ink and folded it as neatly as his fingers would allow. The letter was stuffed into an envelope, and as soon as it was sealed, Ivan began printing Yao's address on the front, being so careful with the strokes of his pen. He couldn't loose this one.

The envelope was tucked securely into his coat pocket, and he made his way into town, wanting nothing but to get to the post office. When he arrived, there was a long trail of boot prints behind him. He was gasping in air, his chest heaving under a heavy overcoat. The door opened.

"Ivan! You're here early…"

The large man lifted a finger, his cheeks too red to conjure up words.

The other laughed. "It's fine, its fine. I know what you're here for…"

Ivan nodded, handing him the highly cared for letter, which was taken with just as much precaution.

"Ah, another one to China…"

Again, he bobbled his head and removed a small satchel from his pant's pocket, slipping it open and taking a few coins out. They found their way easily into the opposite's gloved palm.

"It's expensive to mail things out there…Who are you talking to?"

"My-friend…" He was regaining his breath.

"Oh, well, that's good to hear." The money was examined. "You're just a little short…"

"Oh-! Uh…" The pouch had been drained, so he searched his pockets for a few spare coins. His efforts provided nothing.

"It's alright. You've sent enough of these things to buy me a house…I've got it."

"Thank you!"

"No prob! Have a nice day." The man turned.

"Oh, wait…Is there some way you can make sure it gets to the right place?"

"Well, there's no guarantees, but I can tell you that they usually get to the correct address…Out of all the letters that are delivered only a few are lost…Don't worry about it…Did you get everything right? No spelling mistakes or anything?" He was looking at Ivan's writing on the front of the envelope.

"Well…I always make sure I get it right…"

"Then you have nothing to worry about. Have a nice day, Ivan."

"Thank you…"

The door was closed before him.

On his way home, his gaze was directed at his empty savings. The pouch was useless now. This would be the last letter he would send for a while. For a moment, he prayed, hoping this would be the letter Yao answered back. Even if it was only a few words, just as long as there was some sort of reply…Just something…

Ivan returned, deciding not to go inside. Instead, he packed snow together, preparing the base for yet another snow man. His entire yard was littered with them. Soldiers of heavy powder standing before his home, ready for orders they would never receive. Among all of these frozen men was a single tree that provided them all with arms.

He enjoyed building them. It made him feel less lonely, as if one day he would have someone to show all of these fake people to. They didn't have much for decoration. Some of them didn't even have noses, but still, he was proud to have them.

When the snow man was near completion, he went into his home, taking a bottle of vodka from the pantry and removing the cork. He abandoned the alcohol in the kitchen and rushed out, shoving the bottle's tip into the center of the powered man's face. He used his thumb to make two indents for eyes, a finger drawing in a semicircle for a mouth. Ivan stepped back, admiring the newest addition to the family. For a moment, he smiled and turned away, drawn into his home to sit by the fire…

Yes, another day…