Are You Cold?

There is a window in a small room.

You can’t see through the window because the light from the doorway is reflecting from it.

As you step inside the small room and close the door behind you the path of the light is cut off and the window grows dark as the reflection dies.

Now, in the darkness of the window you can see something but you cannot tell what. It is like… a flurry of shapes. Is it snowing outside?

Are you cold?

It is dark inside the small room and there is a window on the far wall that you still can’t see through except for indiscernible shapes that tumble through the darkness like static on a television set.

You haven’t forgotten the light of the corridor behind you. The door isn’t locked. You can open it if you want, turning that window into a mirror that reflects the light. You can forget about the window altogether. You can leave the small room.

Not today. Not today.

You take a step towards the window. Nothing becomes any clearer. Looking at the window is like looking into a tumble-dryer. Maybe it is snowing.

Are you cold?

You are halfway between the door and the window. The corridor behind you is light. A small line of that light is still visible beneath the door. You can turn back if you want. You can forget about this small room and the window (you can’t).

Another step is all it will take (the room is small, after all). Another step and you’ll be able to look through the window.

You are standing at the window. You are trying to focus your eyes beyond the pane of glass. Even here it seems some lingering trace of the light from the corridor creates an optical illusion that makes it hard for you to focus; for a moment all you can see in the window is your own shadow.

Your own shadow filled with a flurry of snowflakes; empty static; crystals.

Beyond: darkness. And… street lamps.

The street lamps glow, each one bearing a halo. It is snowing on the street outside. There is nobody in sight. There is nobody here except you. It is quiet.

Are you cold?