It was Christmas day, but I only remember parts of it. One thing that stuck in my head was the smell of freshly baked oven cookies and the sound of a guitar playing next to the crackling fire. But I wasn't near any of that. I think I was walking home. My path was lit by a hundred lanterns and their lights started dancing as it began to snow. Holding her hand, I kissed her lightly on the cheek. I whispered something, but I forgot what it was. When we arrived at her place I bid her farewell and went on home.
By then the streets had become dark and the night had lost all it's beauty. It didn't feel dangerous, just very somber and abandoned. With not a single living soul around I turned my eyes towards the sky, where I would find the only source of light that could never abandon me. Trees grew around me as my mind grew weaker. I had lost the path a long time ago and the sound of frozen children singing in the night haunted me. Through the wind, through the cold, through the forest, through the darkness... their voices followed me everywhere. I wished I could have at least joined them in their choir to finish this song once and for all.
"Follow the light", that's all I remember. That and the smell of dying pines. Wherever I went it was the wrong way. So far from the burning hearth that I couldn't even remember the feeling of warmth inside my bones. But I kept going anyway and I kept going, step by step, I tripped, I fell, I got up and fell again. Got up again, but slower. I followed the lanterns, but every time I got close they seemed to disappear into the night. The earth wanted to take me back, pulling me closer with each step. Why not just give in?
I sat down near a giant old tree and lay my head on it's root. I used up the last drop of whiskey to warm my cold bones.
This is all I remember.