Long long lonely winter

I was standing on frozen lake Erie. I had just escaped the dirtiest angriest city and it’s drifts of black snow where people are rude like it’s a form of breathing. Where the only warmth is the cheap whiskey killing you. But I was safe now, fifty feet from the shore, rubbing my arms for warmth, deciding which way to go. Cleveland for a job? Oregon to drink the clean Ocean? A dog pranced up and sniffed my shoe. I looked up to see his master slowly approaching.
“Frozen,” he said, smiling.
I opened my mouth, but was over come by the variety of vitriolic responses that came to mind. What the fuck was he talking about? Who does he think he is? Frozen? I show you frozen, mother fucker. Come up and get in my face...
He passed in silence, his optimistic dog prancing along.
It took me some time to realize he was referring to the lake beneath, stretching out to the horizon. In fact he was gone from sight when I realized I’d gotten out just in time.