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Posted by on February 12, 2013

Who said god didn’t have a sense of Humor. The sun was shining on a cold December day as I walked home from the Hardware store. Did I say cold? That doesn’t even begin to describe this day. I don’t even get how the sun was shining at all; it felt as if he packed up and migrated south for the winter like all the smart animals. The rays that brightened up the day, just a cruel reminder of a time were your boogers didn’t freeze the moment you stepped outside, and wearing only one pair of socks meant frost burn.  Walking in this cold may sound awful but there was no alternative. The air was so cold that the engines froze up, the wind penetrating even the metal shells, invading the inner cavity of the engine. Oh god the wind. How I hated the wind. It tore threw everything; you could be wearing every single layer of clothing you owned and it still wouldn’t be enough. It penetrated down to your very core, bringing with it the biting chill of the winter air.

My breath hung on the air as a cloud of smoke with every breath; I could see the ice crystals forming in the steam.  The town was covered in these crystals, everywhere shining like millions of stars with the reflection of the light. Ice and snow covered everything, the light posts, streets buildings, cars and even the sidewalk. This was making walking home very difficult. This treacherous weather made even this small trip to the hard ware store for new light bulbs seems like a trek into Mordor, only the fire had been replace with ice but the burning sensation remained. The cold burned the skin like a branding iron, leaving its mark to whatever skin was exposed. The spires of the black towers were replaced with the glistening forms of massive icicles ominously hanging from every surface.                            The water didn’t stand a chance against this kind of cold; it was snuffed out and changed to ice before once could blink. If water was life, than ice is death. More like a force than an object ice took over this land, killing everything with its bitter embrace. The flowers, grass, and trees cover in the blanket of cold, unable to reach the warmth of sun still shining overhead. The animals all disappeared, chased from the world as if by the devil himself. This all-encompassing chill, being spread by the wind in a deadly alliance to cover this vast world in their embrace.

The only thing that can quell the despair of winter is the promise of spring, the promise of hope. With the thought of spring on the mind the people huddling in their houses in front of the fire braving out this winter in hopes for better days. The sun that seemed so mocking before now brings hope in the eyes of he who remembers spring. With the thought of spring on his mind and hope in his heart he again began on his journey home. A tear slowly floating down his cheek, turning to ice even before it reached his nose. Winter wasn’t over yet.


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