There is absolutely everything in great fiction but a clear answer.
Human life is fiction's only theme.
The very greatest mystery is in unsheathed reality itself.
The fictional eye sees in, through, and around what is really there.
One place comprehended can make us understand other places better.
When I was a child and the snow fell, my mother always rushed to the kitchen and made snow ice cream and divinity fudge-egg whites, sugar and pecans, mostly. It was a lark then and I always associate divinity fudge with snowstorms.