I am standing in a vast desert, the sand burning my feet as snow falls around me. For some reason I want to sing, but my voice has been taken by an angel I met the other day, who put it into a jar, where it buzzed around like a tiny melodic fly. My coat is made of red plastic. An hour ago it was melting in the sun. Now I pull it tight against my shoulders and it barely cuts the chill at all. My eyes turn everything violet, and I start to see a vision of the ocean. I know it must be a mirage, because it never touches the ground, but washes upon a midair shore instead.