When things were real.

Things don't seem real anymore.

Things haven’t been real in a while. I don’t think I’m dreaming. It always snows. It never snowed before. I haven’t seen anyone in… well, however long it’s been since things stopped being real. I don’t think I’m myself anymore. All I do is walk now. I could never walk for long back when everything was real.

I feel different. There are no mirrors anymore. After everything stopped being real, all the car windows got covered in snow and ice. All the windows on the houses lined up along the sidewalk are too dirty to make out any reflections. All I can tell is that it’s dark behind them.

My shoulders always kind of ache, and my back is always stiff, no matter how much I stretch. I’m not sure if I miss when things were real. I don’t do much anymore besides walk. It’s not bad. I like walking. I don’t have to do anything. I just walk.

It never used to snow when things were real. I quite like the snow. I always preferred the cold. I haven’t seen the sun since everything stopped being real. I’ve gotten used to the streetlights. Their light reflects quite beautifully off the snow that never stops falling—but never gets any higher.

I never get covered in snow, aside from the boots I don’t remember putting on and the gloves I never bought.