I had thought that I’d be looking for a person, not a place, but now that I was here, I found myself walking slightly faster downhill, toward the clearing. I assumed it was the Alta River, though now it was covered with snow. I approached the river, and the road took a turn. I followed it, passing larger two-story houses, and, on my left, a white wooden church. It was the first building I’d seen in this town that wasn’t a home - there appeared to be no restaurants, stores, bars.
I walked father out onto the river. It happened there, I thought, looking in one direction. I turned. Or there. I turned again and again. I faced the darkness of the trees on the other side of the river. Or there.
I grew dizzy. I heard wobbling sounds above me, around me, in my head. My ears were so alert I could hear sound waves. Bolts of light shot across the night. I collapsed onto the frozen river, my eyes staring up at the crackling ski. It was lit like an aquarium.
