The winter after Iggy dies

In this heavy-booted weather, every entry from the outdoors is a ceremony of stomping. The snow dampens all sound, so only your own breathing, in and out of a damp scarf, marks the passing time. Outside you sink, you huddle, you move with slow intention. This is the way of bodies in the snow, slowed into stupor, minds descending heavily into the feeling of numb fingers and raw, ruddy cheeks. This is the season of feeling the outline of your ear, a red flag against the wind.

But inside, steam rises from soup pots. Inside, everything feels boisterous. Boots thump around on cement floors, voices reverberate against each other at full volume. Coats are shed so the body feels sanguine and nimble.

You look around for him, to share the ambrosia of this warm place. You do it reflexively, nearly joyfully, which propels you into a moment of bewilderment. Every head looks like his, with convincing crowns of black curls. Every person is in a bright, ballooning jacket. He is everywhere and you are happy and your heart lifts right up over the room.

The chimera of happiness dissolves and then a sullen realization sets in: they are, none of them, him. You were deceived.

You find a table that gives you a wide view of the room, and soon, over the hot breath of steam from a cup placed in front of you, the mirage insists that it is real. The sun breaks through the frost-obscured window and sets the whole scene alight. They are all him.

You watch the Iggy on your left bring a gurgling laugh up, as if drawing from a wellspring under the table. As he shakes vigorously, the room seems to laugh with him. You see the Iggy on your right staring out the window, a small alert dog at his feet, an idle hand reaching down to gently touch its head. Each Iggy makes the world better.

When the tea is gone, you pull on your heavy layers and go back into the reality of solitude. The cold air slips into your shoes, finds ways to get into your socks. Even now the water wants your skin, the flood hides in plain sight as snow.