Short Stories

White

     White.
     Like the clouds in the sky.
     But small and fragile, it turned into water when it hit my nose.
     It was a much different feeling from the sand beneath my feet, which was warm. But not cool like the night air, no this feeling was nothing like anything I've felt before.
     The elders of our tribe were also in awe of this, unnatural event. However there was one, the eldest of them, who told stories of a similar event.
     He was only one at the time but he remembered it vividly.
     "All of the older children were running around and playing in it," he would start.
     But his parents were fearful and his mother covered him. He always regretted not getting to play in it, as the next morning the sandstorms began covering it all.
     He was too old to enjoy it now, he sat next to the fire with the adults and continued his story while we played in it. We made little games and tried to make shapes with the tracks we left, even though it was different we enjoyed eating this mysterious white rain.
     "Come on kids, time to get warm," our parents yelled out.
     The warmth of the fire melted these little magical flakes, although some of us that were farther away, slowly became covered as it fell from the sky.
     "Can we go back to playing," one of the older kids begged.
     "Sure, go have fun but come back in thirty minutes so you can keep warm," the eldest mom said.
     We played and rested when we were told, and enjoyed this wonder until the sun set. By morning most of it was covered by sand again but we could still see it in our footprints.
     We kept playing, trying to uncover the mysterious powder as our tribe moved to the next location.
     "I think the camels are having fun with the snow."
     "Yep, especially the young ones."