I see a white face with black eyes. A polar bear. He watches me, silent and still. I am in an empty wide open field. Everything is white. There is nothing between me and the horizon except for a frozen waterfall, a single barren tree, and a glass of water : a tableau of stillness. The snow crunches beneath my feet and I feel as if I have no toes, it is so cold. Like a spirit, my breath escapes from me, furls and swirls, then disappears. I am not moving, just watching.
An old wooden house sits on a hill far away with stairs going up to a door. I walk across a great distance to the door. There is a hollow, crystalline echo to my footsteps, like the mechanical tinkle of a music box. Inside the house is an unmade bed, rumpled sheets. No one is here. I feel that this must be my home, but the eternal blank world outside still holds a mystery. I lay on the bed and sleep overtakes me, unconsciousness erases any sensation of cold. My toes and hands relax, become soft again, and I sleep a deep, deep sleep and exit a world of white into one of darkness. As I drift off, I hear the sound of crying from another room…