Never-to-be noticed me sits at the end of the bar. It’s cold and the wind swirls around my Auburn curls. I tend to stare into the abyss and enrapture myself in lonely thoughts.

It looks like this:

Purple swirls like snow before green and blue mountains. Cows fly into the viewers eyes but fail to hit anything. They disappear like bubbles or change to feathers. Howling wind is suddenly an empty tunnel tearing me apart and drawing me in. I am a character in Alice in Wonderland. I grow to impossible heights and stand on the mountains. I rise above the purple swirls and breathe fresh air before returning to a normal size. I run but I don’t go anywhere. I face-plant and look up for a hand. I reach into a hold with a hand. It is clay and breaks apart. I stand up and stare.

Then I refocus. Still here. In a bar. On a ski slope. Alone.

Merry Christmas