A Shard cut from Unfriendly Cold

I imagine vast industries below the earth, some subterranean factory that has drawn the distance out of the day.
No light, no colour, and the snowy air tastes like needles.
Walking back tonight - even though there was still light when I left work - it seemed to have been night forever.
This is an unfriendly cold.
Even in the flat, and even with the heating on, the cold still penetrates everything, and at night when falling to sleep, I pull two quilts over myself, and in the darkness there, I could be anywhere.
I see my breath, the television, the table, the plant above the CD rack empty of CDs.
Could fall asleep on the sofa. Waken when those cold industries below us have reversed their annual machinations.