Before you Leave. . . These Stories are Short

The Snowman With a Gun

Word Count: 478

"Joel, what do you think it is?"

"I don't know, a snowman?"

"Duh, of course it is, but what is it doing?"

"Running?"

"Come on Joel, you didn't even look."

"Can we go in yet, I can't feel my fingers anymore. These gloves my mom gave us suck."

"You know what else sucks?"

"Don't say it. Unless you want my fist in your face."

"Alright, alright. Just, Just guess what I made and we can go in, okay?"

"Okay. Umm . . . Well it's obviously a snowman, we covered that much."

"Uh, huh . . ."

"It looks like it's holding something."

"Uh, huh . . ."

"What'd you use, is that a piece of rebar?"

"Uh, huh . . ."

"Uh, geez, I don't know . . . is it a snowman construction worker?"

"How the hell did you come up with that? No it's not a snowman construction worker. GIve me some more creative credit than that. And besides, do you see a hard hat on him?"

"No, I guess not."

"Try again. "

Okay. Is it a . . . I don't know, I can't think clearly. It's too cold out. Aren't you freezing?"

"No, now just answer the freaking question! What is it?"

"Calm down. You don't have to yell at me. I'm thinking. . ."

"Well then think faster, or else . . ."

"Is it a Garbage man snowman?"

"No way! That would be stupid!"

"A snowman musical conductor?"

"No, and drop the snowman part to your answer. Obviously it's some sort of snow man, you're just wasting time." It's like you're not even trying or don't care . . ."

"I don't know man. You're not giving me much to work with here."

"What are you trying to say, huh? That my artistic abilities aren't as great as I think they are? That I'm wasting my time with these stupid building projects and I should focus my mind on other, more productive things?"

"No of course not. None of that is what I'm trying to say. I just think it's getting really co—"

"Waaa waaa waaa! Quit being a baby and just figure it out already. You think I want to be out here in the cold weather waiting for you to guess what it is I've made? No way! I thought we were friends? You know, like, able to mind connect and stuff. You've got to try harder. . ."

"Of course we're friends, this just isn't fun for me anymore and I seriously can't feel most of my limbs anymore."

"You better guess it right now or so help me—,"

"Joel, come inside now. I've got a nice cup of cocoa for you waiting inside. Make sure to wipe your feet before you come inside, okay?"

"Okay, mom."

"And who were you talking to? I thought Kyle wasn't able to come over today, wasn't he grounded."

"Noone mom. It's Just me . . ."

"Oh, okay. Say, that looks just like a snowman with a gun. Did you build that?"