People think that snow is silent; this isn't true. There is a sound to snow falling. The gentle landing of frozen intricacies melding with the same substance they originated from, returning back to the source.

Standing in two feet of snow, I had little appreciation for the tranquility of the moment. I needed shelter.

Thankfully, the billowing smoke ahead, if not a hallucination, meant I had made it. I trudged forward not allowing myself to even entertain the notion.

After an indeterminate amount of time, I approached a welcome sight, The Attitash Overlook. The windows held a vignette of fog alluding to the life inside as dense smoke darkened the sky overhead.

"I just wanna tell you how I'm feeling. Gotta make you understand," I sang in a quiet voice, that voice reserved for only yourself. "Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down." Chattering teeth disrupted the melody but I didn't allow myself to slow. "Never gonna run around and desert you."

A footpath finally opened up causing a small cry of joy to burst from me. The weight of my own steps lightened as if I had been submerged, my own body becoming increasingly easier to manage now that I wasn't fighting the elements. I let myself pause to catch my breath and squinted through the snowfall to see figures milling about inside. Silhouettes glided this way and that, seemingly busy but moving leisurely on this blustery day on the mountain.

Without further inspection, I willed my tired and aching feet to the entrance and giving a push, that was really more of a lean, I forced my way inward. My senses were assaulted as the heavy, wooden double-doors parted. Light blinded me temporarily, causing me to instinctively shield my eyes. They were dry from the wind and the cold and in closing them I found myself tempted to keep them shut.

"Welcome," a terse voice said from what sounded like underwater.

Blinking my eyes open, I saw a single figure behind a long, high-top counter in a dark stained wood. The woman, of a mature age, gave the slightest of nods at me. Confusion struck before I realized I was still paused in the doorway. I gave my boots a good stomp, which reverberated through my shins in an uncomfortable way, before stepping inside to close the door behind me.

Once fully separated from the harshness of the relentless weather, I finally took in the interior of the Attitash Overlook. Classic, ornate, and... outdated, with a mustiness to match. The furnishings and decor all appeared to be new but tacky in style. The interior designer must have been on a tight budget.

I headed for the attendant in an attempt to get out of my head but found her 'customer service' smile unnerving. "I need a room," I said, barreling into the conversation. I wasn't keen on fabricating pleasantries with this individual.

"Of course." Her eyes widened slightly but held mine as she reached down and blindly grabbed a set of keys. "Here you are." A jittery hold on the brightly colored plastic tag caused the key to clink against the ring.

"Don't you need my information? Or, you know, money?" My chapped lips protested against every word as I eyed the strange woman.

In a sudden motion, she thrust the offered key into my hands. Startled by the action, I reflexively took it from her. The green, oblong tag read '1212.'

"You have a reservation."

I looked up, her words taking entirely too long to register. "But I didn't know I was going to be here."

She pointed at her ledger. "Oh honey," she cooed at me. Her shaking had subsided since ridding herself of the key- my key. "That's not for you to decide."

A wave of dread washed over me causing me to look around. "Where did everyone go?" I asked, doing my best to quell the sense of rising panic.

"Nowhere honey, they're still right here."

The hair on the back of my neck stood on end and in an instant as I could suddenly feel the other presences around me. They moved about, passing through me as if I was the one who wasn't even there.

"We'll always be here," she said, stealing my attention once more before continuing. "Not everyone makes it back down the mountain."

WC 727