A fairy tale ending in a bright neon city, the neon lights of the city flash and flare on as one young woman lies blissfully in an alley. Her thin cotton clothes provide no respite from the bitter cold of the light-night air, but it doesn't bother her anymore. Right now, the chill feels good. It's mid-November, and as she watches the sky, snow begins to fall. It doesn't stick, not even a little, it melts the second it touches anything, melting into drops of water. But the lovely white flakes stick in her wild, wavy chocolate-colored hair before melting, a fantastical mess of melting and melted snowflakes. The darkness the night lends to her hair makes the stark white flakes look like stars.
She smiles wistfully as she lies on her back in the cold, her eyes riveted on the sky above. She imagines what it's like to swim the waters the stars float in. Is it cold, like it it here? She thinks, fancifully, that she wouldn't mind even if it were colder than it is here. The cold doesn't bother her much, anyway.
She lies there, daydreaming about sitting in the sky, having the stars as company, chatting with the constellations. She watches the snowflakes spiral down from the clouds and wonders in her flaky way whether the snow falling down around her is actually all the other people who dream as she does, of climbing to the heavens and sitting with the stars.
Is that what it's like to be like a snowflake...? To be perfect and unique unlike anything else in the world, and then falling down to earth, crashing and dissolving and being forgotten forever...?
The snow begins to stick, and it snows heavier and heavier. The snow piles up around her as the hours pass, and she just lies there, allowing the freezing slush to cover her. The last thing she sees before the sanguine slush obscures her face is the stars, oh, god, the stars are so beautiful, and the falling snow, oh, it looks like tiny feathers falling from the sky!
Everything is so quiet and beautiful, so wonderfully silent and unbelievably beautiful as the ruddy life weeps out of her from the stab wound in her back.
All her life she dreamed of a fairy tale ending, and now she's finally got hers. The tall woman standing at the mouth of the alley smiles mischievously, and walks on.