I saw with my eyes the small flake that was caught in my window screen, I had left the window open a little bit last night because I felt too small. The light from the sun made it melt into a droplet, I guess it was a few snowflakes. The air is too cold so I move under my blanket, but I cannot move. Instead, I move where I feel under my blanket and focus on my legs, I can move them barely. I feel the soft sand washed flannel against all parts of it. The hair gets caught and then unlatches, it gets caught again and tugs away from the direction it lays and something in my spine is activated. I can’t see anymore because it is dark out, but now I feel the softness across the entirety of my back, spreading out and parting with the viscosity of magma, creeping around the edges of my body. My nose is suddenly cold again and I can hear the sound that the snow outside makes when it quiets everything else. The air is frozen, and I can’t see. I hear how the brook under the ice travels through the frozen air, it is angular. It hits me as a gentle plane passing through, perfectly straight. I am covered in sand and my nose is still cold, it must still be above the surface. I am falling backwards now through myself, and it feels like I will keep going until I have gone through all and looped back around again. My blanket covers all of me except my head and my nose is still cold, I am laying on a bed of ubiquitous grass and it is warm. The sky is dimming, it is freezing away, but I am still warm. I am still warm..