Fragments of the Myriad Mind

Seasons

Winter found Spring in her garden, weeping into her hands. She looked up at winter as he approached her.
"What do you want?" She asked, looking at him slightly threatening, her eyes puffy from crying.
"I heard you crying and wanted to cheer you up." He replied.
"Winter, I don't think you have ever cheered someone up." Spring said with a weak laugh.
"That's not true!" Winter said with mock offense. "What about the people who enjoy themselves while sledding? Or having snowball fights? Or the little kids making snow angels?"
"Well," Spring said thoughtfully. "Is it fun when your sled crashes into a rock? Or when the opposing team puts stones in their snowballs? Or when you get soaked in cold water? No, I think I prefer spring."
"As do I." Winter said more seriously, sitting beside her.
"Winter? You're like my brother! Wait, you mean like my season, not me, right?"
"Well," Winter began, playing with some grass at his feet. "I like warmth. Even though there's the small niceties of winter, what really is the best about it is the warmth. The hot cocoa you get after playing in the snow. Or being wrapped up in a cocoon of blankets or staring at the warm fire in the fireplace. All these things take the cold out of winter."
Winter looked up at Spring. She was studying him intently.
"I never looked at winter that way." She said. All trace of her earlier crying had left her, besides her mildly puffy eyes, which, as Winter watched, appeared to be disappearing slowly, but steadily.
Winter looked back down. "That's just my personal opinion of course," He said, standing. "I should probably go."
As he turned to leave Spring spoke up behind him. "Winter?"
He tried to turn around like a normal person would, but he probably spun too quickly.
"Thank you," Spring said, smiling. And stars, that smile. Winter could swear he could feel his frosty heart thawing.
"Of course, Spring. Glad I could be of some help." And before he could say anything else he'd regret, left.