Snow

One of the most comforting sights is a world freshly laden with snow, untouched, untainted. And when you step outside, you want to be the first one to make an imprint, but yet you don't want to disturb it. Deciding against it, you go inside and grab a cup of hot cocoa. Later, your little brother goes outside and screws it up without a second thought. And that alone gives you permission.
You go outside, both pleased and pained by the sound of the muffled "crunch" under your foot with each step. "Hypocrite," you say to yourself. You stop. Your mumble was scarcely heard by your own ears. It is at this moment that you realize the world is not making a sound. You slow your breathing. The silence is unbearable. For comfort, you whisper, "whoa." But the sound seems to have traveled mere feet before dying. The snow silenced even the slightest peep. This gives you real cause for discomfort.
And then, emancipation. A snowball hits you in the triceps surprisingly hard, and giggles erupt from a nearby bush. I totally should have been ready for that, your inner snow warrior says. Your reflexes take over your body for an instant, and then you find yourself behind a tree, ideal snowball in hand. You take aim.....And the rest of the afternoon is a blur, but you can remember it was fun.


Thanks for letting me practice my writing skills on you for a sec. Will you let me know how it is? Merci.