I had intruded on their eighteenth of November. I had to be careful, I told myself. I already know that I leave a mark. I consume my world. I sustain burns and sprained ankles. But I also put other people in danger. I drag them out of their eighteenth of November. Out of their routine. I risk killing someone. I don’t imagine that the world will repair itself, that if I lead people off course they will simply wake up again the next morning. I have to be careful. I am a danger to my surroundings, I tell myself, as I roam around in the snow. I drag people with me along snowy paths.
