 |
| via |
She inhaled sharply.
The cold air stung her throat as it rushed into her warm lungs. She watched the fog of her exhale swirl and
dance into oblivion as she blew out the used air.
She felt like used air.
She had always held a fondness for winter. Winter was her cold sister, beauty hiding mysteriously
beneath the surface, hesitant to emerge for all to scrutinize. She looked out at the meadow spreading out
like a blanket below her. A low, quiet
mist hung among the naked branches of the trees. A flock of birds flew gracefully above them,
intently focused not only on their destination but also the journey. The lake in the distance proudly wore what
was left of last week’s snow on its frozen surface.
She wasn’t as frozen as she thought she was.
She marveled at the scene before her. It faintly reminded her of a library—everything
you could ever wish to know was right there at your fingertips, but you had to
know where to look. Otherwise you could
search for hours, days—weeks, even—and never find what you’re looking for.
She knew what she was looking for.
This place had always brought her comfort. Other hills held memories of picnics and
sledding trips, grass-rolling contests and snowman-building races—but this
place was hers. Her own little spot to
share the joys and pain with. She told
this place things she never dared speak aloud, even to herself. But here?
Her secrets were safe here.
She sighed. She truly
had nothing to complain about. Her
thoughts flitted wistfully to last summer.
Early summer, spring, really. The
future had looked hopeful, bright, happy.
Then all of a sudden, others’ lives had started crumbling all around her. A shooting here, a nation’s tragedy there, a
father gone now, a sister-daughter-mother-to-be gone then. She had kept walking through it all, chin up,
stride strong and steady, but her eyes were wide open and the fear did its best
to pry the already-fragile crack in her heart open wide.
The gash was inevitable.
She had trusted once and her trust had been betrayed. Hadn’t it?
Hadn’t she gone where no one sane would ever go? Hadn’t she thrown dirt in the face of
everything her culture said was wise and good?
Hadn’t she set sail on an ocean she had no business ever crossing?
She had started sinking.
Hard and fast. She had gasped for
air, lungs burning, heart pounding, arms thrashing for someone to pull her
up. Someone had, but it hadn’t been the
One she had hoped would save her. She
had hoped against hope for a miracle and none ever came.
It didn’t come…did it?
And this was before all hell broke loose last summer. Spring, really. She smirked at how naïve she had been. But…her face softened.
Maybe she was a fool to keep hoping. But maybe she wanted to be a fool, even
now. If fools laugh in the face of despair
and cling to courage in the face of torment, she would be a fool’s fool for as
long as she lived.
Her thoughts circled back like the geese overhead, landing in
the misty grove of naked trees below. Yes,
she could relate to winter.
