After the concert, he found himself shuffling along the street with all the rest of the exuberant audience, humming one of the band's big-hit melodies, his eyes still strobing slightly from the light-show. It was so cool and digital, like all the alternating headlights and tail-lights.

The sky was starting to get much darker and the air was suddenly colder and then snowflakes were falling on everybody. He pulled his hood up over his head.

It wasn't long before there weren't so many people on the street. He was surprised to realize that he had been following one particular girl for some time. There was something strange and yet familiar about her. By then, enough snow was on the ground to show footprints and hers were the tracks of very small boots with tiny pointed heels.

The girl stopped under a street-lamp and lifted her small face to look up into the night sky. He stopped and stood where he was and looked up too, perhaps hoping to display a sympathetic attitude.

He watched the millions of snowflakes falling down toward him out of the blue-black infinity and, also out of the blue, his mind recalled reading somewhere that reality is structured in octaves, like music. He allowed himself to laugh with pleasure at the thought and then he tried to casually meet her questioning eyes.

Her smile was sweet but hesitant. The snow had melted on her face and looked like cold tears. Its crystals sparkled on her dark hair and eyelashes and her eyes were shining too, dark and deep.

That was when he heard himself saying, "Don't I know you from somewhere?" As soon as the words were out of his mouth he was uncomfortably aware that he had used the gnarliest old line in the world. He looked down at his feet, playing for time.

But she just laughed lightly and answered, "Of course you do. We've met many, many times before. Don't you remember? I am Nesia."