Written from the prompt quote: “I shall not soon forget the peculiar feeling with which I my blind and looked out upon the unknown world: a wide, white wilderness was all that met my gaze…”
The azure heavens cause the deep murky snow to glisten and hurt my eyes. Even if I close them I feel a soft tingling as if a snowflake has caught itself under my eyelid. Melting to cause little droplets of salty relief. The pond has frozen over trapping the koi below, like placing a butterfly in a jar and allowing it to suffocate. I imagine the now still fish are creating a kingdom under that ice, one where the world cannot penetrate, no cat shall stick its greedy claws into the pool and no algae will cloud the fishes sight. They are freed; freed from their large golden bodies.
The snow entices me with its silencing quality, it muffles the trees movements and the milkman’s steps. It hides the concrete and the tarmac. Yet the snow is tainted already, lines of grey sludge streak the virgin white. Like the spots of red against white sheets, which spread outwards like pools of rain. I wish the world were clean so that the snow would always remain milky pure. It would cushion my steps and comfort my mind with its beautiful crispness.
Since the snow fell the world seems stiller. Both internal and external reality have aligned and now lie silent, peaceful and Holy. I hate to see snowmen lining the streets at night, the children spoiled the snow with their sticky fingers and muddy boots. They’ve lifted the veil off the one they love to find a stained carcass below. One whose eyes are glazed not unlike my homes snowflake covered windows.
As the days begin to grow my beloved snow does suffer. I hear it cry out and wail and screech, as it clings onto the mucky ground. It’s softened and darkened, like a rotting apple, gone brown and gooey by the passing of time. But my snow cannot leave me, it will take with it everything and leave one against the dirt.
