Am I awake or asleep, I don’t know.

Am I dead or alive, I don’t know.

Under a ton of blankets I rest, but my body is still cold.

Mi skin feels like burning, but that doesn’t melt the ice in my bones.

Do I scream with pain, maybe.

Is my voz heard, I doubt it.

But Lucy looks at me with her big blue eyes while I shiver in my bed.

She tells me everything will be alright, that the fever will pass and that it is still snowing outside.

I get up and open my window. The gelid winter takes me, lifts me and snatches me from my house.

I fly low, close to the ground.

Huge snowflakes dance in the air, fall to the ground, are lifted by the wind and fly back to the clouds that let them fall.

I am still flying. I am the human torch with iceman inside my guts.

I fly and I fly until I come back to my house and to my bed under the blankets.

Am I awake while I write this, I don’t know.

Tomorrow, when the sun comes out I will maybe find out.

Tomorrow, when the snow stop falling I might come back here and fix my spelling and grammar.

Tomorrow, when my world is not burning I will live.

But it is still snowing outside tonight.