She pulled the curtain aside to look into the dark blue night. From the golden comforts of her home, the snow seemed light years away. I don’t care; I’m going to do it, she thought, with a twinkle in her eye. Hastily, she pulled, shimmied and wiggled on her long john leggings, hoodie and wool socks. She grabbed her giant parka and ski cap from the hallway closet and, with gloves in hand, turned the doorknob and stepped outside.
With her body bundled in layers of thermal wear, only her face could feel the gentle yet chilling breeze say hello. As the moisture left her lips, she whispered ‘hello’ back. She looked left; she looked right. The day’s snow had fallen just in time for dinner. Her neighbors up and down the street were nestled in their homes. She was alone.
Without a cloud in the sky but with the help of the moon, the new snow glimmered, dazzled across the yard; as if snowflakes waved their jazz hands and sang, “bop, bang, dazzle, razzle, boom, pop” on a stage. She looked up and nodded. The stars noticed. They watched.
She stood listening to the tree branches swish and sway with the wind. She faintly heard car horns honk and squawk in the distant background. She laid down a top the soft snow and danced, moving her arms and legs with the imagined beat; up and down; up and down. The stars clapped in chorus; the flakes moved with her rhythm.
She enjoyed the lingering music as long as she could, until the chilling breeze wafted in, stinging her nostrils. It’s time to go inside. Then, it settled into her lungs. You must go inside. Too crisp. Too cold.
She delicately rose, carefully looking back at her gift. Satisfied with her creation, she looked up. The stars twinkled; thank you. She nodded and walked back into the house.
The stars enjoyed its new song, smiling at the snow angel she left for them.
*just trying something different
