Dreamt the snow was warm and I kept falling through

I'm skiing a line I know by heart, but the snow is warm — like stepping into a bath. Every turn I sink a little deeper, and instead of panicking I just think, finally, the season told the truth for once. Then I'm standing on a rooftop in a city I've never been, watching the meltwater pour off the eaves in sheets, and I can smell the street below, wet asphalt and coffee.