Rambles and short stories

Winter

Prelude

 -

On the first of December, it snowed.

 She had always imagined snow to be beautiful. An assembly of tiny, floating angels announcing the arrival of Christmas and messengers of God, bringing with them the beginnings of a prestine white land.

When the tiny flakes first fell, she was ecstatic. Her mother had told her that snow blocked off the tax collecting city dwellers and covered the frozen wastes of starved neighbours, that snow was clean, unlike the ground they slept on. That alone was enough to make her smile.

 Her mother had also warned her, in a voice filled with worry, that snow was cold, freezing cold. She brushed the warning aside like a speck of dust.

 -

Three days after after Christmas, the snow had turned into a blizzard.

 Her excitement had waned away when her feet swallowed up from touching the frozen ground. Her mother had wrapped them up with bits of cloth, but she could still feel the pain shooting up her leg.

 They had ran out of oil, and the only food left was a sack of dried up yams. Their tiny hut didn’t have walls solid enough to block the wind, and a thin blanket made up of thrown out clothes was the only thing they had to keep warm.

 She thought that it was bad, but worse came when a strong gust of wind blew their home over.

 -

Curling up next to her mother and their collapsed hut, she shivered while her teeth clattered loud enough for even the city dwellers up above to hear. Her mother’s hand was burning hot and she had developed a nasty sneeze, but there was nothing they could do.

 Staring at the blindingly white snow, she wondered if there was hope.

 -

The snow kept falling.

 Falling,

 Falling.

Falling until the whole world was an ugly shade of grey.

 -

She didn’t know when it was that hunger left her. All she knew that her bag of dried yams had ran out, and that her stomach hurt so much she couldn’t feel it any more.

 She realized that she couldn’t feel much of her body at all. Only the arm still leaned against her burning mother who can no longer do anything but sneeze and cough.

 She didn’t know when it was that her mind began to wonder.

 -

What were the city dwellers doing? Did they have enough oil to burn? Did they develop sneezes that shook their entire body?

 She couldn’t image them so miserable. They were never miserable. She could always hear laughter and see bright colours up in the city. They were happy, always happy.

 Above the bridge-like roads that formed roof of her world, it was a whole different land. A place so clean that it was impossible, with secure houses and nice clothes. A place where wishes were fulfilled.

 Heaven, compared to the slum in which she lived.

 Did those in heaven feel cold?

 -

Her mother had lost the sneezes, and her burning hand was now freezing and pale.

 She wondered if the two of them would survive winter.