Lift Every Voice and Sing

Storm

Chapter 1:

The snow crunched noisily under Tate's high heeled feet as she walked through the never ending crowds of New Yorkers on the sidewalk today, all rushing to get to their rather boring jobs,as Tate perceived them to be; sitting at a desk in a tall skyscraper,reading stacks upon stacks of paperwork, it seemed quite the boring life to her, though she was a buisness CEO for her husband. But, then again, that was fun, Nick and her working together to figure out problems that came up, boss people around that were not doing their jobs. It was not like this was the bestest of jobs for Tate; she preferred to paint and write books; but, it did astonish her today that such a job with her husband invovled could be so fun; she thought otherwise.

It seemed to Tate that everyone in New York always had somewhere to be or something to do that they forgot to do- the large crowds were like a metabolism almost; they both had all sorts of different things to do,and both thinned out...so they must be the same?

On this particular November day,Tate couldn't see how anyone could walk through this hellish weather; the mischievious wind blowing hard, wreaking havok on anything that was light enough to be blown away. Most people had taken refuge under coats haphazardly placed on their heads, running to their destinations to at least try to not get any more drenched than they already were.

As much as Tate loved the snow,and the month of December in particular, she didn't want to be soaked to the bone in wetness, her snow colored hair flying in the whistling wind, and slapping her face, leaving her cheeks aflame, when she was on her way to a meeting- and especially when her husband was the boss of that company, and, being married to him, she had to show a buisnesslike stature.

Though, don't get her wrong- Tate absolutely loved winter.Above all other seasons. Yes, it was cold, and chilly when the mischievious whistling wind came out to play, but it was also a beautiful wonderland. The snow falling rapidly, from the pregnant grey clouds above, piling up on almost every surface, gleaming different, beautiful colors as the sun casted it's rays on the white, powdery substance. It was a beautiful sight.

Armed with only her camera today, Tate hurridly walked through the endless crowds of hunched over people, marvaling at the scenery of today's winter wonderland- the snow had stopped falling, but there were mounds upon mounds of the powder on the sidewalks, trees, and any other surface it could stay on. Thick plumes of smoke rose up into the air from the chimmneys of the small buisnesses, causing the snow to slide down the sloped roof, and land (almost funnily) on passerbyers' heads. Numerous small buisnesses lined the street, leaving a few tall skyscrapers to dominate the sky, but they looked out of place- the skyscrapers, tall and thin, with their gleaming windows, gleaming the full spectrum of colors as the sun's rays hit themand those extravagant entrances- they reminded one of a movie- with the circulating doors that rotated 360 degrees in a full circle and gleamed like a diamond would when the sun's rays hit it. The kids would play games, seeing who could make the doors rotate the fastest, and ended up comming out all dizzy afterwards, feeling like the whole entire world was spinning right in front of them. The extravagantly dressed men in crisp suits and tuxedoes, carrying around briefcases, darting in and out of numerous crowds of people- it sounded like quite an everyday hassle to have to go through.The women would be in varying styles of clothing- from impeckabley rich street clothes that let everything hang out, as though the person wearing the clothes wanted to put theit body on display to the world- to the women that wore professional suits, dresses,and blouses, running in their high heels just to get from point a to point b, causing sores to develop on their feet.

The most Tate saw on the streets were people of varying ages wearing street clothes-the men wearing those baggy jeans, with that signiture style of sagging the jeans in the back,and women who wore tank topshalter tops, or ripped skinny jeans,almost as if the whole thing was a game of who could show off the most cleavledge to the world.