Three stories of red painted wood stretched up in a square in front of the sky. I just felt right being there, long steps creeping up the shoveled paved path. A table with smoking men sat in joyful idleness. Each are chattering in a quick, sharp spurts. Mattering little the air was in a crackle quickly letting itself smooth back to order. A shady interior of the building lent the ragged staircase a safe haven. Light footsteps as the confusion to the prior incident drew them down. Quick puncturing blurs and frolicking bodies piled upon each other in the center open square.

I let my feet drag me to where they want. Obviously that silhouette of a man had some reason. And that man didn’t want any living should to know the privilege of life. I am not sure why I know him or his figure. But I do, like a memory that can’t be removed yet is just waiting to be said. In my small glance of him I could still feel his hatred through the un-seeable eyes.

Flanked by rising snow and a steepening path a woman came towards me holding a terribly odd smile. A black muzzle points to me and a ripple of air comes as a bullet renders itself to my collar bone. Dropping into the thin layer of snow against a mountain of white, it felt so right, so me, and so much my essence. Blazes were now exchanged and her shaded dark blonde hair few out into the blue cloudless sky. Two points in my flank feels like a pick repeatedly tearing into my flesh. A quintet of holes now placed her alongside lifeless snow.

My always oh so soft soled shoes give little noise during the chatter of the hallway. The pink tile and glass cabinetry passing by in a dull flash of life. Upstairs and down hallways leads me to a blue metal slit of a door. A man with a persistent question came after me.

“You don’t look too good, something happen?” His round face would inquire.

Without even so much as a coherent phrase directed to him I toss more and more objects that are skewed out of my vision into a bottomless pit of a bag. That which made me live was dripping out onto the floor with ease as I walked and moved. With the pudgy man as part of my entourage I find several others with either excited expressions or invisible ones. All were awaiting the cold win with snow on its fingers outside the glass and metal doors.

The room was large like a grand hall. Yet its floor to ceiling windows gave a glorious vista out to the warm and comfort of the sun in the setting horizon over the bushes and the sea- it was all too much like an artist’s masterpiece. Each of those that followed with me had their bags behind them with their bodies wrapped in a form of water ware. Taking our positions in front of the oversized swimming pool we took out first leap deep into the air and then escaping into the warm greeting waters. Tendrils of red slipping around me, from me; as I landed, swam and excited I could see the pigment. No eyes gave glance of wonder. Each continuing with me letting the filters deal with the annoyance of the red that tainted small parts of the tank.

To where this was going, and for what, I knew not.