I remember how bad I wanted to see the snow melt away from the rooftop of that house which was standing in front of my balcony like an immovable piece of rock. And spring came and the white stuff was still there. And birds started to sing. And forest animals started to nibble new seeds from the melting nature and the sun, oh the sun wasn't shining cold any more, but the snow was still there rejecting pictures of the future that only spring can offer to the dreamers. And I was aching. I was aching to see the world change and go up in flames just to turn that very last square meter snow into nothing. I was dying to breathe free from all care, I was dying to start living the dream. And I remember crying with bloodshot eyes when I felt a snowflake land on my face on the first of May. And I also remember when everything disappeared. The snow. The wait. The dream.
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