How Do You Feel C. Jane?
I've never experienced it, but I've seen it in many scenes in movies. A character, a gloomy shadow of a human, is stuck in a unnavigable snow storm. One foot is charged in front of the other displacing dense piles of powder with every stomp. There's a coat, but its fatigued, and the human is forced to bury its hopeless face inside, using the buttons holes to see the already limited view.
You can see from the way the figure moves that the hips are taking the brunt of the hapless movement. The pelvic bones are pushing and pulling with each heavily labored step.
Then it happens, the character tips to the right. Tips to the left. Falls flat faceward onto a bank of embracing snow.
And you scream from your comfortable position on the couch to the unhearing person on the screen,
YOU HAVE TO KEEP MOVING! YOU HAVE TO KEEP GOING!
But the character is so tired, so tired. And there is salvation in bowing to this cold death. Just relenting a little, waving off the last remaining bits of humanity, covered under a blanket of storm. The character begs,
Let me sleep. Let me sleep.
Then, what's that? There is strings. Music. It twists its way up a strong crescendo which ends with our brave character twitching an ice-encrusted finger or two from out of the snowpile.
There is resolve! Hips moving slowly. Feet forwarding carefully. Knees working steadily.
Death will have to wait!
A better end is near, one with a warm fireplace and a salty bowl of soup, a waiting bed with soft sheets and woolen blankets. And sleep. Lots of sleep.
Just a little more to go.
That's how I feel.