There is snow falling from the sky. Each little clump of snow is formed from individual snowflakes, each with six tiny arms. And on each arm are six tiny villages with tiny, tiny snow people, screaming as they fall through the winter air to join the millions below them in heaps of winter coldness and deceit.
I told Carlos about all of this as we walked through a small snowy woods. I asked him why each snowflake has exactly six arms. I still don't know why each snowflake has exactly six arms; I only asked him to hear the sound of his voice and I lost track of all the little words in between.
After a while, the voice stopped and he was looking into my eyes. Looking deep, deep into my eyes, and I looked into his, as the moment grew more and more intense, and suddenly the moment was broken as he asked, "Cecil, are you even listening?"
"I was listening," I said. "But the words seemed less important than the voice."
"It's just that usually when I talk about science you say, 'neat,' but today you were just staring..."
I was staring into his eyes, and he was staring into mine. Finally back to that intense moment again. As if eyes were truly the windows to the soul, and we were seeing each other, and understanding... Well, perhaps aside from the science part. Carlos' eyes were so deep though. I began to fear that I might fall into the abyss.
"So tell me again about why snowflakes have six arms," I said.
Carlos sighed and looked away as we began to make progress once more through the snow. I really did try to listen, but again I heard the voice stop and I knew nothing about the genetics of snowflakes.
"Neat," I said.