Generous. The wind and the snow. Giving the impression of a pure white, but empty canvas. Trudging through the whirlwind abyss, a lone dark figure. Sharp in contrast, shattering the uniformity of the silver torrents of white. The figure never stops. Trudging on and on. As evening draws a crystal twilight on the horizon, the clouds part to show a zillion stars. Unaware of the beauty, and very aware of the freezing cold, the lone traveler keeps going, hoping for a fire, a light somewhere ahead. A place to stay. Anything but this bitter cold drawing him in. Bewitching him, taunting him to stop, just for a moment. He must not yield. But his muscles scream and his feet have grown numb.

He turns toward a forest. Better to die secluded, protected, sheltered by the dark trees. A corpse hidden from beasts, winter starved vermin. 

Just as he gets ready to fall, at the foot of a towering pine. Exhausted. The figure catches a glint. It must be his mind playing tricks on him. As he looks up, he finds he's mistaken. A beautiful, welcoming, glowing yellow shining through the trees. He's drawn, magnetized by the prospect of warmth.

But something besides warmth waits in the light. The door is closed but the windows are clear. He sees a familiar face inside. His destination at last. He isn't the only one drawn by the light. Without warning, from the shadows of the trees ahead a silhouette jumps, runs across the short clearing and through the door. A scuffle. Agonizing, moaning, horrific screams piercing the silent night. A battle. A shot. Penetrating. Shattering the silence. Bringing dark, rich, blood red stains onto the pure white abyss.

Then the silhouette leaves. Running into the darkness never to be seen again, it seems. And the light, steady as ever, but never as welcoming as before.

Our lone traveler then realizes that he's near where he was set out to go. A town is nearby, he knows. A few hours later we find him warming himself in a bar. A stranger, foreigner. We see him, constantly watched by suspicious eyes, pay for a room, and go upstairs in the town's only inn. 

Just as the lights go out all over the town, nobody hears the stranger whisper "too late" in a sad, wavering sigh.