It was a bright cold day in April. The clocks struck thirteen. Winston Smith’s chin nuzzled into his breast. It was an effort to escape the vile wind. He slipped quickly through the doors of Victory Mansions. Winston was not quick enough as a breeze followed him in. Chasing the breeze a swirl of dust and grit entered.
April was bright and cold. Striking thirteen were the clocks. A chin seen nuzzled into their breast was Winston Smith before slipping quickly through the glass doors. Though it was an effort to escape the wind, gritty dust swirled into Victory Mansions.