The snow is falling. It falls on the roof. It falls on the dead pine. You are cold. Your hands shake. The shovel bites into the ice. It slips. You fall. The pain is sharp. It is white. It is bright. You are old. Your lungs burn. Every breath is a fight. You are fighting. You are winning. You always win.

The cabin is small. The wood is old. The wood is wearing thin. You remember the day you built it. You remember the sweat. You remember the sun. Now there is only shadow. The fire pops. The embers glow. They are dying. They are turning to ash. Ash is what remains. Ash is what you are.

Your son is here. He is sitting by the stove. He is watching you. He does not speak. His eyes are wide. His face is pale. He is afraid. He is waiting. You see the fear in his neck. It is a tight cord. It is breaking. He is your son. His name is Thomas. He is young. He is strong. He has your hands. He has your jaw. He is you. But he is not you. He is new. He is clean.

You look at the door. The wind howls outside. It sounds like a beast. It sounds like a ghost. You push the shovel aside. You walk to the window. The glass is thin. The glass is cracked. You see the white. It is endless. It is empty. There is no one out there. There is only you. There is only the snow.

"Thomas," you say. Your voice is dry. It is like leaves. "Are you hungry?"

He shakes his head. No. He does not want food. He wants something else. He wants the end. He wants you to stop. You know this. You know it because you felt it in his silence. The silence is loud. It screams. It begs. You turn away. You look at the fire. The fire is low. You need more wood. You must get more wood. You must live.

You walk to the door. The handle is ice. You grab it. You pull. The door sticks. You push. The wood groans. It opens. The cold rushes in. It is a wall. It is a wave. It hits you in the face. You step out. The snow is deep. It is up to your knees. It is up to your thighs. You wade. You fight. The snow fights back. It clings to your clothes. It weighs you down. You are sinking. You are drowning. But you are not. You are walking. You are going to the tree line.

The trees are bare. They are skeletons. They stand in the white. They watch you. They judge you. You know they are watching. You know they are waiting for you to fall. You will not fall. You will not break. You are strong. You are the scholar. You are the master of this land. You conquered this land. You tamed it. You made it yours.

You find a dead tree. It is fallen. It is split. You break off a limb. It is heavy. It is wet. You lift it. Your back screams. Your knees buckle. You stand. You carry it. You walk back. The snow is deeper now. It is waist-high. It is chest-high. You are disappearing. The white is eating you. It is erasing you. You are a ghost. You are a memory.

You reach the door. You lean against it. You breathe. You knock. The wood thuds. You wait. No one comes. You push. The door is locked. You are locked out. You are alone. The cold is biting. It is chewing. It is tearing. You try the handle again. It does not move. You hit it. You kick it. You scream. The sound dies in the air. It is swallowed.

Thomas is inside. He is safe. He is warm. He is watching you. He sees you struggling. He sees you failing. He does not open the door. He cannot. He is frozen. He is trapped. He is bound by his love. He is bound by his guilt. He cannot let you in. He cannot let you die. He is stuck. You are stuck. You are both trapped in the ice.

You slide down the door. You sit in the snow. The cold is numbing. It is a mercy. It is a blanket. You look up. The sky is gray. The snow is falling. It is soft. It is quiet. It is beautiful. You close your eyes. You think of your father. He is gone. He is in the ground. He is in the soil. He is part of the earth. You are part of the earth. You are becoming the earth.

You open your eyes. The door is open. Thomas is there. He is crying. His face is wet. His eyes are red. He is holding you. He is pulling you in. The cold is gone. The heat is back. The fire is roaring. The cabin is warm. The cabin is alive.

"Thank you," you say. Your voice is weak. It is a whisper. "Thank you, Thomas."

He does not answer. He holds you tighter. He is shaking. You are shaking. You are one. You are together. The fire pops. The embers glow. They are not dying. They are growing. They are bright. They are new.

You sit by the fire. You are tired. You are so tired. Your body is heavy. It is like stone. It is like iron. You cannot move. You cannot breathe. The air is thick. It is heavy. It is suffocating. You look at Thomas. He is looking at you. He sees the end. He knows the end. He is ready.

You reach for his hand. Your fingers are stiff. They are cold. They are blue. You grip him. You squeeze. You do not let go. You will not let go. You are holding on. You are holding on to life. You are holding on to him.

The fire dims. The light fades. The shadows grow. They reach for you. They touch your face. They touch your eyes. You close them. The world goes dark. The world goes quiet. The snow is falling outside. It is gentle. It is kind. It is covering you. It is burying you.

You are in the snow. You are in the white. You are alone. You are with him. You are both there. You are both gone. The tree is wearing thin. The wood is cracking. The roof is caving in. The snow is pushing. The snow is winning. The snow is eternal.

The cabin is empty. The fire is out. The ash is cold. The door is open. The wind is howling. The wind is singing. It is singing a song. It is singing your name. It is singing his name. It is singing the name of the land. It is singing the name of the ghost.

The snow covers the door. It covers the window. It covers the roof. It covers the ground. It covers the tree. It covers the world. It is white. It is clean. It is pure. It is silent. It is done.

You are not here. You are everywhere. You are in the snow. You are in the wind. You are in the cold. You are in the ice. You are in the stone. You are in the bone. You are in the blood. You are in the heart. You are in the mind. You are in the memory. You are in the past. You are in the present. You are in the future. You are in the void. You are in the light. You are in the dark. You are in the silence. You are in the sound. You are in the pain. You are in the joy. You are in the loss. You are in the gain. You are in the life. You are in the death. You are in the between. You are in the now. You are in the forever.

The snow continues. It does not stop. It does not care. It does not know. It is just snow. It is just white. It is just cold. It is just time. It is just space. It is just being. It is just nothing. It is just everything.

Thomas is gone. He is in the ground. He is in the soil. He is in the earth. He is part of the earth. He is part of you. You are part of him. You are one. You are together. You are whole. You are complete. You are finished.

The cabin is gone. The wood is rot. The roof is dirt. The walls are dust. The fire is ash. The ashes are wind. The wind is air. The air is sky. The sky is space. The space is void. The void is silence. The silence is peace. The peace is rest. The rest is sleep. The sleep is death. The death is life. The life is beginning. The beginning is end. The end is beginning. The cycle is closed. The circle is complete. The story is over. The story is done. The story is finished.

You are free. You are free from the pain. You are free from the cold. You are free from the fear. You are free from the guilt. You are free from the love. You are free from the self. You are free from the name. You are free from the face. You are free from the body. You are free from the mind. You are free from the time. You are free from the space. You are free from the world. You are free from the ghost. You are free from the distant ghost. You are free. You are you. You are nothing. You are everything. You are the snow. You are the wind. You are the light. You are the dark. You are the silence. You are the sound. You are the life. You are the death. You are the peace. You are the rest. You are the sleep. You are the dream. You are the waking. You are the knowing. You are the being. You are the existing. You are the happening. You are the becoming. You are the passing. You are the fading. You are the vanishing. You are the disappearing. You are the forgetting. You are the remembering. You are the living. You are the dying. You are the ghost. You are the distant ghost. You are here. You are there. You are nowhere. You are everywhere. You are gone.