His mind studies the beauty of his breath.
How wonderful it is, to breathe and keep breathing each day. He realizes he is actually somewhere with a breath, in and out of his mouth. To breathe is to be alive, he thought, and with a thought he realized he was truly alive. His mind, once again, drifts him away from anything else but his breath, he sees every aspect of the beauty of his breath soothing itself. He could spend all day seeing every part of his breath, as it is, as it was, as it should be. At home, he found himself breathing on a cold window pane, rubbing his fingers against the damp surface, proud of the small figures on the glass, and when they disappeared, there was only sunlight to embrace every single tree of the valley and an entire world outside, waiting to be explored.
Sniff feared how big the world was. Unlike his breath, it lasted for far too long, it stretched far beyond any limits, and it was solid too. So much to explore, but how much to be seen and felt? He had thoughts of seeing it all with his eyes, and thoughts of feeling every wind of every town that belonged to every country in every continent of this world. Or, could there be more than one? Sniff had no clear answer. He let his mind drift him away from any worries as he imagined what his friends would say about it.
— Well, one world to live in, it is better than nothing, don't you agree? – The first was one of his dearest friends, Moomintroll.
— If I had the chance, I'd visit the moon to see if it's made of swiss cheese. For curiosity's sake. – The second was his father, The Muddler.
— Sorry, I don't want to leave this world in search of another. I'm happy where I am, but I may be willing to visit the moon to see if it's made of cheese, or something. If not, I'll stick with my button collection. – The third was his brother, the Fuddler. People do say he takes after his father.
— Instead of buttons of different sizes and colors, I could be discovering the location of Hyperborea!... This if I ever cared. No, I'm not risking my life to find a place that may not even exist. – Said his mother, The Fuzzy. Always reserved, and rather shy, she was proud of her huge button collection.
— How about some tea? – Moominmamma said. She was so naive she could host a tea party on Mars, according to Sniff.
— Whether there are other worlds, I don't feel like exploring them at the moment. – Moominpappa said.
— Neither do I. – Followed by Snufkin, who unlike Moominpappa, never settled down on his adventures. Only a few times, when Winter was nowhere to be seen.
— Travel around the world? Oh, sure, but I'm not thinking about having any children yet! – Said The Jumble. Sniff knew very little about his sister-in-law by the few times she appeared alongside her husband, such as her desire for not wanting any children. Oh, and she was very fond of the Fuddler's button collection too.
— One, two, three, four! I don't have to count any further, you are goofy in every reality. – Said Little My, in a rare display of kindness. If only it was easy to see her soft side through her sarcastic behavior...
— I want a world where every child is treated with love and respect by their parents and caretakers. – Said Too-Ticky, willing to help any of the lost souls found in her way.
— We are lost among the windings of these metal ways. Life is a river that flows back to silence, back to minus with the purple sky behind us. Too many worlds, too many butterflies to collect! – Said the Hemulen, in a very cryptic and poetic way.
— If I were to live somewhere else, I'd choose a place where I don't have to clean any falling leaves whenever Autumn comes. – Said Mrs. Fillyjonk, whom Sniff did not consider a friend, nor a foe, but somehow her voice found a way into his mind.
— A world without a theater has no meaning. – Said Emma, the Muskrat. Not quite a friendly person, given how harsh and demanding she was towards others, but Sniff appreciated how much care she had for her theater.
— I can go anywhere as long as there is water under the floating theater. – Said Emma's niece, The Fillyjonk. Sniff considered her to be a good actress, though the two of them never interacted in any meaningful way. Maybe we could be friends, he thought, putting aside the "ifs" and "what could be's" for another day, another time.
— ...Aaaahhh… – The Groke moaned and did not say anything, but it was clear she wanted a place where she could feel the heat of the light.
And with such thoughts in mind, Sniff felt he could be anywhere else other than his couch.
To breathe over that mountain, to breathe underwater, to breathe in someone else's home, to breathe in a moss garden... He wanted to live, and as long as he breathed, he could afford that. He thought he could be in that town, but he did not know anyone who lived there. He thought he could be walking on that hill, but climbing required a lot of effort. He thought he could be on the beach, but the waves could pull him away.
— I don't want to be alone and drifting through an endless ocean. – Said Sniff. He could not muster up the courage to say these words to no one but himself.
He thought he could be in the sky, but nobody would notice him floating above the clouds. He thought he could ride a seahorse, but he did not trust them. He thought he could visit Mr. Hemulen's garden to smell the flowers, but he did not want to feel queasy. He thought he could visit his parents, but he did not know what to say to them. He thought he could be at Moominhouse, but he had no interest in being there at the moment. He thought he could be in all of the locations written and narrated in Moominpappa's Memoirs, but he lacked the energy and inspiration to write about his own memoirs, let alone actually visit those places.
— What about hiding in tall grass? – He asked himself. – Sure, but would I remember my way home? Would the grass become my new home if I were to get lost in there? No, I don't want to live in a house of grass! I am a free spirit, I demand freedom, I don't want to be enclosed within walls of green, I don't want to be stuck on this island.
He thought he could take himself seriously and not be afraid of taking any risks, but his mind fooled him at times. He thought he could be working on a farm, but the farm had to be his and no one else's to belong. He thought he could watch the northern lights, but North was a very cold and far away place to go on foot. He thought he could be rich and famous, but Sniff feared his good traits would be overshadowed by all the wealth and fame. He thought that people could be interested in reading about "Sniff's Memoirs", but he felt his life was not interesting enough to be compiled into a book and said people would prefer to seek solace and advice from his friends. He thought he could be the new Werther, but his sorrows were nothing compared to the latter.
— I don't want to be an afterthought in my own book! – He shouted in anger. – I could burn all this furniture and care less about any worldly goods, just like Snufkin. But then, where would I live? The world, that is! As Snufkin would say.
And, for a moment, Sniff thoughts revolve around Snufkin and only.
— He clings to himself with self determination that I lack, he lives a life of adventures in the woods I stay away from, he has plenty of stories to tell while I have none, he has someone who longs for his return whenever Winter comes, he knows how to play harmonica while I don't! He is against railroads because they are too noisy and people are free to move around with their lives at their own pace, according to him. Everything and everyone wants to be friends with Snufkin. Only Snufkin! He gets to be put on a pedestal above all the rest but he does not seem to care.
It was then that Sniff realized how much he yearned to be like Snufkin, in every way and every move, in all colors and in all shades. From head to toe, from teeth to nose; from words to clothes, to knees and eyes, he thought he could be Snufkin watching the sky. But then, he would no longer be himself.
And that frightens him.
