As the young man took a pause from his labor 
he took in a deep breath and inhaled the mixture of now and bitter cold air
that had been flying constantly downwind through the tent and tarps covering the thirty-five centimeter trench that he and the rest of the seven person crw had painstakingly dug.
” I hate centimeters”, he thought, ” it’s hard enough being mindless inthis weather, even harder if you have to be precise.” 
As he looked past the tent towards what used to be the scenic view of mountainsides covered in oak and pine far in the distance and an old bridge over the river waiting patiently for the net train to arrive and play it’s sorrowful howling tune across the countryside, but instead in place of all that was amassive blanket of fog, covering the moutains and the fields
clouding everything
and the snow never ceasing
driven by a cruel wind