You’re on a train, going through snowy ice covered mountains. It’s cold, bitterly cold. Your breath is coming out in swirls of steam even inside the warmest car on the train. Everyone is wearing full winter gear. Still hours until your stop, the end of the line. You sit with your backpack at your back, a little cushion from the bump and sway of the train. In your hands is a hot drink (you’re not sure what it really is) from one of the other passengers.
Where are you going and why are you going there?
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