a reality and love

I should be going. I should be getting up from this table, pack up my bag and make for the door. Only after putting on my winter gear of course. Strictly only after that. Stepping outside now, in a jumper wearing no extra protective kit it would be suicide. By the time they would drag me in the door I would probably be long dead. Naturally. Anyone stepping outside in this storm would be knocked down instantly into the cold snow and wearing only a jumper would start freezing instantly. My organs would start shutting down within about 4 seconds. That’s a very short time so even if someone wants to come and help me, drag me back to the building by the time they put on their super winter clothes I would be frozen solid. And if they came without it they would be joining me quickly. There is no point to that now is there? Trying to save that sorry bastard out there or for me, risking those precious lives. I should just start getting dressed.

Dad! Oh that annoyance in her voice.

What is it?

I’m ready. Will you get dressed please?!

Sure just give me a minute. I dosed away staring into the fire thinking of those dreadful clothes again.

If you really so don’t like it here why don’t you just go home? Nobody forced you to come over.

That’s not true! Have you not heard of parental love?

Ah, get lost! But really, are you coming?

Sure, just go ahead. I will come in a minute.

I will never understand what brought her here. This far north to this place. I could never live here. Not even in the summer. A desert of ice and although it is a gross overstatement saying one would last only 4 seconds outside in a storm, it certainly feels like that. Certainly does feel. Unlike in dreams about an easy life, sailing south every spring when the ice breaks. Navigating the Atlantic all the way south to Patagonia and back. Stopping at ports on the coasts of America and Africa reaching back home a year after, settling in for another long winter before heading out again.
Those dreams were crushed once I found out the ice breaks at Qaanaaq only for 2 months a year. They were crushed when I set foot in this town for the first time and they received a final blow when I heard my daughter is planning to spend some years here. I think only then I realized I would never make it here. Only then I realized the difference between a cushioned dream and a reality only them adventurers will set out to endure. And locals who will not find life in constant subzero odd.