Winter

Outside the world was a bitter cold. It pierced the skin and numbed the ears to non-existence. The windows had a thin covering of water droplets that made everything seem fuzzy and disoriented. She looked outside. The moon peeked behind the dark clouds in the sky. The sky's black, they say. Black is the darkest color. So why are those clouds even darker?

She made a fist with her small delicate hands and rubbed it against the breath on the glass. With her hand-made peephole she looked outside. The trees were still and lights were up everywhere. The reds, the greens, the bright clear and eerie blues. . . every color of every shade of every size and shape and symbolic meaning hung from tree to tree and bush to bush. She huffed a small breath that covered up her little window to the outside world. Knotting her eyebrows, she sat down with a plop onto the thick carpeting.

In the other room she could hear her mother's high velvety voice wafting through wires to reach some important person or another half way across the world. "Why, of course dearie," the voice came in a fake, almost British accent. A light chuckle followed as always, and the girl stared outside, angry.

"Why of course dearie," she mocked under her breath. With her finger, she drew a mad X onto the window. She viewed the world from that perspective. How odd everything seemed when it was cut off by the intersection of two lines at an angle.

Spontaneously, she picked up a nearby book and flung it towards the wall in a fit at the world she did not understand through the new window. "Dearie, what is going on in there," her mother's voice wafted over in a sing-songy voice, an elaborate act covered and protected under inches of mascara and foundation.

"Nothing Mother," the girl replied in a replicating tone. "I dropped a book." She looked outside again. The X was gone. The window had disappeared in seconds. What she had despised just moments ago now seemed like a friend she lost but could not retrieve ever again. Damnit, she thought to herself.

She took the sleeve of her plush green sweater and pulled it over her hand. With the new "glove" she rubbed against the water droplets again. The world became instantly crisp. Something had changed. Feathery white pieces were coming from the sky in little pieces, floating around the air before they landed onto the earth. "Snow," she whispered.

She sat down slowly, and watched the magic show that took place before her. The floating pieces began to fall, with more and more momentum until they began to come down in clumps. Her window slowly closed and covered again and she knotted her eyebrows together in petition.

Pushing her pudgy body up, she opened the immense wooden front door and walked outside. It was freezing and she shuddered even under her heavy sweater and velvety black pants. She watched as the flakes came down and melted into her clothes, onto her skin. She shuddered again.

She tilted her head back for a new perspective. This time she wasn't afraid or upset of the new angle. She opened her mouth and tasted her first snow.

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