[In the plaza, near its southern edge, there is something strange. It is most noticeable now that snow is falling in earnest - a shape, smallish and curled up on itself. There is a boy in the snow. Asleep, dressed only in new feather pants, shivering. When he finally shivers himself awake, it's a groggy half-there voice that broadcasts. Seems the journal's open.] Just...a few m-more...minutes, Prof-ffessor...