Snow storm=You"re dreaming once more.
This time, again, darkness spreads beyond your room"s door. And there, all lined up in this unnatural s.p.a.ce, all those doors. No matter what you do, you"ll always end here in your dreams. You already know about this place, but that doesn"t make you much more confident. You open one of the doors slightly and peek inside. You feel immediately some kind of dreadful atmosphere, and fall back. You repeat this for a while.
You keep this sightseeing walk until you get interested in a particular door. It"s a door in no special place, and with quite a plain color. It doesn"t give a hostile vibration, but instead, that of a fairy tale. Staring at it full of interest, you push it open, softly, and step on the other side.
And what"s ready to meet you there is a snow blizzard.
As far as the eye can see, an unpolluted snowscape. While covered in snow, this is again quite a vast s.p.a.ce. But unlike the other gloomy, b.l.o.o.d.y scenery, at this side of this door, the light reflecting in the snow makes everything seem at peace and joyful. Relieved by this, you start walking.
The wind leaves traces on the snow. You spread the red umbrella that you seem to have taken a liking to, and preventing the snow from blinding you, you start walking. Strangely enough, you don"t seem to feel any cold, and keep walking in quite a light way. Could it be that you can"t feel cold or heat since it"s a dream? It seems you don"t need to warm yourself.
You go on jumping, like a snow rabbit. Sometimes crouching down to make a snow ball and throwing it away without any purpose in mind. You lose balance and fall on your rear, getting all covered in snow, but you seem to be having fun and don"t care about it. With the impact, a tree"s branches wave, and the snow falling from it covers yourself entirely, making you look like a snowman. But, like a little kid would, you stay in high spirits. Like a happy dog running around in a garden, the snow makes everything look so much bright. Somehow, it feels kinda unreal, as if the dirty and ugly things were all covered by the snow... A huge playground that fell from heaven.
Snow may look gentle and fun, but nothing further from reality. In Dante"s Divina Comedia, it"s something that steals warmth, that robs life, that kills everything and ruins fields. Winter is linked to dead, and in a way, shares a meaning with sleep. That"s why you should stay away from here as much as possible, leaving the beautiful, unsteped scenery of white as pure and charming as you think it is. The floor covered in thick snow is surely hiding things that you wouldn"t want to see. You may not realize, but it robs you of the warmth of your body and gnaws it, or rather freezes it. It"s something obvious, but you are like someone that just went back to being a little kid. In this dangerous storm, you keep your cheerful gait.
Before long, in this fuzzy landscape, you meet something out of the ordinary. A little cave made with ice... in other words, an igloo. When you look at it close, you realize it"s made by small, compacted blocks lined up.
In people minds there are many more things than one could ever imagine. Those things are jammed into boxes and stored in the deepths of your brain. They come with a precious wrapping and a "With my best wishes" written on it, but you can open them anytime you want.*** Just like those crystallizations of memories, these igloos seem to be made guarding important recollections, laying here and there. They all look warm, but small, like treasure boxes. You step at the entrance of one, covering yourself from the blizzard. You lower your umbrella and enter in this consciousness.
Curious, just like the match selling girl, you let yourself relax and start examining your surroundings, letting yourself go into pleasant and happy memories. But of course, you don"t realize. Just like a little girl would, you are completely absorbed in your games. Falling and rolling on the floor, jumping like some animal"s offspring. Hiding. Sliding on the sledge. Everything on your surrounding shines with it"s own light, like a field of blooming flowers. You are showing your most sincere and happy smile. A warmth in your hands. That"s the kind of security you show.
But those are just memories of a distant past. Like a snowflake that falls on your hand, all that melts away as you approach it and disappears.
As if you suddenly were conscious of the cold, and looking for new warmth, you step into the next igloo. You repeat this, recalling all those precious and nostalgic memories. You enter nonchalantly the next igloo, but stop right at the entrance.
There"s a girl already inside.
It"s really strange to find another person in a dream. When it does happen, they are either a shadow of your memories or an abstraction of an idea. I wonder which is it here. That girl is sitting down, embracing her own knees, and seems to be sound sleep. In a blink, you walk to her side, but there"s no reaction. It"s as if she"s completely buried into herself. As if she was trying to protect something, like a treasure. That girl looks like you. But somehow younger. Like a little version of yourself. A pure you that, after playing around in the pure white snow, ended up sleeping here. Trapped in her happy childhood memories. Sealed away in her sleep.
On a cold night, one gets instinctively close to a fireplace or a stove, and just like that, in a single instant, as if you wanted to warm your cold body, you curl like a fetus besides the girl.
Stop. You mustn"t wake her up. If she were to wake up, she would have to face the real world. She wouldn"t be able to live on. The bitter things, the painful and sad moments, they would mince her body into a puddle of blood. But as long as she stays asleep, she can stay in her happy and comfortable memories, to keep being a little kid... It"s better that way. You shake the girls shoulder softly with your hand.
But suddenly, you turn around as if you had felt some presence. At the entrance of the igloo, surrounded by the snowy landscape, there"s something.
It"s a small woman. Small enough to fit into your hands. She wore what looked like pure white j.a.panese burial clothes. Her mysterious blue hair made it clear that she wasn"t human. She looked just like a doll one would use to play house.
You tilt your head slightly, as in doubt, and approach her. You reach your hand out to her, slowly, as if you were trying to pick up that surreal fairy. But the blue haired doll avoids your fingers easily, and starts running away, as if frightened by you. You start chasing her. In the middle of the blizzard, you reach out with both hands to her, that can"t run that fast, and press her against your chest, embracing her.
The doll doesn"t resist you at all. You won"t let her go, just like a kid, unable to let go a blanket with their own scent. Even when they become adults, and it ends in the storeroom, they wont throw it away. And if someone carelessly buys them a new one and throws the old one away, they will feel sad. The doll was like the crystallization of that pure feeling of love and affection one feels as a kid for her friends, and evoked such fun memories. You were embracing all that.
You came a long way chasing her, and the igloos were no longer visible. Your ragged, white breath made your fatigue obvious. In the palm of your hand, the doll is slowly crumbling. Like the Snow Woman that melts away after receiving the love of men. As if the warmth of your body after running turned her into water, cooling you. Relaxing you.
But even after having disappeared, the doll has left something important behind... something that gave you courage and refreshed you. You embrace the remains of your little friend as something precious to you.