Friday, January 4, 2013

4. Merry Christmas, Mr. Lawrence

Describe your perfect snow day.


I open the door, prepared for the blast of cold wind that laps against my cheeks. I step out, carefully making my way down the four iced brick steps and then leaping onto the clean layer of snow. It's thin up to the edge of my driveway, which my father hasn't had the chance to clear. I grin against my scarf and raise a booted leg to sink into the two and a half feet of snow. One foot in front of the other, I work my way through my yard until, my goal in sight. I look to my neighbors house, watching as their tiny black dog leaps into the snow, unafraid, as usual. I imagine her digging her way through the deep layers like a mole. I look forward, my grin widening as I reach my destination.
"Liz!" A chorus of voices cheer as I reach up and wrap a gloved hand around a thick branch of the magnolia tree. I pull myself up, out of the thick snow, and onto the branch, clean save for a light dust of snowflakes. I stand on the branch and peer through the surrounding branches at children preparing to their sled down the sloped hill, attempting- and sometimes failing- to dodge the few trees and bushes. I hear the strong wind before it hits my face. I turn towards it but keep my eyes on the snow above. As the wind comes, the snow goes, falling to the curled magnolia leaves around me. They sound softly as they land, almost like they're singing their way to their own destination. But that one is only temporary. In the next gust, they'll be blown somewhere else.
Yet they still sing.

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