It's dusk in a snowy forest and I'm playing with a fox. It bites my wrist but there is only a dull ache. I feel that it wants to say sorry but can't. I die.
Above and behind a window opens and a cigarette hangs out.
I'm in a crowded lift and a girl I've never met tells me she thinks she might love me.
The lift won't stop at any floor, and I can't talk in front of all these people.