Sergei and Hans Chapter 4 Part 2

The snow never ended. It just got deeper. I hardly knew what I saw at times. The storm was powerful. The flurries fulfilled their rising ambition. They rushed and conquered the surface and repeated themselves billions of times over. The snow came to my knees and sometimes reached my waist. I dug myself forward. I took in the cliffs once more. I became enchanted and, as the wind shifted, my whole body shook and almost caused me to fall.

I had to find a goal, however abstract, something to strive for, and something to keep me going. But nothing was visible. Absolutely nothing. Only blurring snow, lobbying for a permanent residency. Only gray. That suffocating gray. My ears were clogged, but I could still hear the gales of wind throb and lunge and pierce and snap. It came in too damn fast. It was impossible to think, but I kept moving. It only got colder. I pushed further. It was a classical illusion, but I liked its sound. I became everyman that day. I was striving for a miracle.

The day was done. I dug a hole with my hands and buried myself underneath. It was the only thing I thought would work. When the hole was deep enough, I crawled and wedged myself in and covered my face with my hands. It was if I were back in my mother's womb. I knew I would probably die. If I were lucky, I'd die at night. Then it would be over, and I could forget all this. Although, if I died in the morning, at least I would have a chance to see the sun one last time. There would be no need of burial in either situation. The snow would suffice. In any case, I was ready.