prompt: a winter memory
Tall, dry, stalks of grass struggle upward from the thick blanket of snow. The whole world is brighter and quieter, suddenly on mute from the freshly fallen snow.
The wind picks up and pushes the flakes -big and wet- into her eyes, sticking to her eyelashes and crowning her temporarily with its cold beauty. She fights her way forward but her progress is slow and laborious so finally she just sinks down into the nearest drift and looks up into the sky.
The snow is falling faster now and it blinds her so she closes her eyes. She remembers making snow angels as a child. There is a stillness and tranquility here. It is so peaceful. If only she could stay here forever, in this bed of snow and forget that tomorrow is full and burdened.
The wind whistles through the branches and the light whispers its way into a pink sunset. The birds flit from branch to branch getting ready to seek shelter for the night.
The cold is bitter now as the light gives way to darkness.
You cannot stay. It's freezing fingers wrap around her. You do not belong here.
Go home it whispers, go home.
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