Original article posted by Olorle:
The wind whispers promises too me. Promises of release from cold. Release from hurt. Release from her. Only, it’s promising me in a voice I’m trying to forget.
The path I’m following stopped being a path hours ago. Now, all that remains is white. White coating the ground. White swirling into my eyes. White lulling me towards sleep. The only thing that isn’t white is what I see when I give into the whispers and start closing my eyes. Then I see her. I see that look in her eyes when I yelled. The rage and disbelief warring behind green depths.
If nothing else, it keeps me going. Maybe not to try and make things right again. I think I gave that up when I left. I’m just afraid of falling into her eyes and being trapped forever. That notion frightens me more than any eternal punishment any god could conjure up.
Or maybe it doesn’t.
The chance to fuck things up again somewhere else looms in the distance, through the sheets of white. The first hadn’t hurt so much. Sometimes change is necessary. Too much change turns into chaos, which really isn’t any better than stagnation. Still, people say ‘in life there is hope.’ Even so, the cynical part of me likes to point out that sometimes the odds are so far from one you’re best off playing a new game.
That is my plan. Move on. Find another table to play at. Another life to live. A place where I can start fresh. Eventually, find someone else to touch. To love. But the warmth flowing into my toes now seems so nice. So different from the cold. So safe. Maybe just a short rest against a tree. Something to shield off at least a little of the white.
And now I see her again. Only, the anger is gone. She’s smiling again. I have to smile back. Her arms seem so inviting. So warm. I have to fall into them. The world wavers there, dancing between her warmth and the warmth of the snow, until the two become one. We hold one another tightly, lost in the white. Her eyes glitter, the only shot of color in my world and my fear fades and I fall into them, escaping the white, accepting her punishment.
The wind finally dies down and the snow fall straight, leaving an odd pile amidst the trees. An inverted snow angel, ten paces from the road.
Re: Snow Angel
I enjoy this piece and the feel of it. I really like it alot.