I straightened the black jacket and headed for the outside door. I opened the door and went outside. I went down a few steps of small stairs. I smiled and breathed deeply into my boots, which sank into the white background.
We were in an area surrounded by mountains and everything was white. So much so that even the tile roof of the two-story house was covered with snow.
Just like in the fairy tales.
"Come on."
I smiled in the familiar voice and walked up to the coffee-eyed man. On the other hand, I was looking at the tracks I left in the snow.
'Every man leaves a mark on this world. These traces can be tangible or abstract.'
My mother's voice ringed in my ears.
He was right.
We were all leaving a mark on this life. Although these marks are sometimes visible, sometimes they can only be felt when you close your eyes.
I turned my greens back into the tracks I left in the snow.
These were one of my visible marks.
What about what's being felt?
