Out of habit, he blinks to concentrate on the exact arrangement of words as his senses start to freeze. He looks right and left. As he successfully recalls the advice passed down to him by his climbing teacher he blinks and misses the trail marker.
He wanders off into a world as white as this screen.
His entire life has been lived with seriousness of purpose and an exactness for memory, but now he knows he'll never buy another calendar in his life.
After several hours, he falls back into the snow and does a snow-angel as the white around him turns to black.
His lips move in a final harangue against the mountains hidden behind the white.