Snow

Cavalierio: Hey Molly, come and see the snow.

Molly: Snow? What snow?

Cavalierio: You've to come out to see it. Hurry. February's coming to an end.

Molly: I see no snow. The sun is shining. Shining oppressively, probably in cahoots with the government.

Cavalierio: Is the sunlight hiding the snow? You can see the flakes falling out from nowhere just above. Look closely, past the timezone, where the red roof juts into the sky.

Molly: Ah, yes, these light falling things. Where do they come from?

Cavalierio: She once said that every snowflake is different.

Molly: Who?

Cavalierio: She said, If that were true, how could we ever recover from the wonder of it?

Molly: By forgetting. We cannot keep in mind too many things. There is only the present and nothing to remember.

Cavalierio: You remember what she said after all. 

Molly: Look at how they fall onto the ground, so gently, like a whisper.

Cavalierio: Then they disappear.

Molly: They do, into the past, where there're only abandoned secrets, stubborn nostalgia, and everything to forget.