You,re skiing, as one does during the season. All is well as you ride the gently compacted snow, spray coating your skis.

Surdenly, however, you see a ski. One ski. Missing its owner. You suddenly stop, your skis sending out a shower of snow spray, which is unkindly greeted by a groan of the injured Osamu Dazai.

“Could you not? I’m dying over here.” Dazai muttered. Obviously, he loved over exaggerating.