Holidays in Night Vale [Welcome to Night Vale]

Chapter Two

Carlos's POV

I race to the apartment that Cecil and I call home, wanting to find some conclusive evidence and get back to Cecil before the snow hits. I want to get back to the radio station before it happens. Snow in a desert has two possibilities - fail or catastrophe.

The most scientific explanation is a fail. The desert is hot, burning, and it could easily melt and fall as rain. Considering the City Council is behind it, the snow might fall and cover the desert, or at least this small town.

When I reach the apartment, I unlock the front door steadily, swing my bag onto the counter, and head up the small staircase to the bedroom. A few books are scattered around the room and I search, eventually finding my book on meteorology. It has odd instances of weather patterns and happenings, but there's no report of snow ever falling in a desert.

Sighing, I pick up my cell phone and dial Cecil's number quickly, looking at my watch and remembering that the clocks in Night Vale don't work. I can remember the call I made to Cecil the day I uncovered that, remember how he played the call on his show. He was so excited to hear my voice, and I his. We've come so far since then.

The phone rings for a little bit and finally I hear a click. Cecil's voice penetrates the speaker. "Carlos?" he asks. I can hear the smile in his voice, happy to have some sort of link to me.

"Cecil, this seems impossible, but it's going to happen." I tell him. "I'm coming back to the radio station.

"Okay," he responds in a sing-song voice, "but be careful."

His statement puzzles me until I look out the small, draped window in our bedroom. Pulling back the curtains, I see small, white flurries spinning to the ground.

"It's starting to snow already," I state in awe, sure he already knew. "I'm going to grab some warm clothing and stuff that might help us with the snow. Be there soon."

Cecil breathes in slowly. "Alright," he says excitedly, "love you." Then I hear a click and I know that he's gone.

I slide my phone into the pocket of my coat, heading downstairs again. I walk over to the closet towards the back of the apartment that has our gloves, hats, scarves, and all sorts of articles of clothing inside. On the way, I grab my bag on the counter and open the latch. Then I start shoving scarves and gloves inside, putting in a few hats. Once I feel like I have enough, I cross to the front door, pulling on my own pair of gloves. They're fuzzy and brown, warming my hands quickly. I pull a scarf that's sticking out of the opening of my bag and wrap it around my exposed neck, turning the collar of my coat up.

Then I'm ready, and I head out the front door. I'm greeted by a slight chill. The temperature hasn't lowered drastically, but it is quite a change from what we're used to on typical days.

What surprises me the most is the fact that nobody is upset, surprised, excited. Everyone seems to be treating this as if it was normal, as if snow was a common happening in the desert.

Noting that it will probably become even colder, I head over to my small, black car and step inside it carefully. It's somewhat old, and it was used before I bought it. I purchased it before I came to Night Vale, this fascinating place with the most fascinating people.

I'm thinking about our adventures, my studies, on the drive over. It's a relatively short drive and I'm going slow, taking in the scenery. Despite its odd look, as if it's out of place, the snow looks beautiful, highlighting the lights and buildings. I turn back to the street to see a man crossing the road in front of me.

He is wearing a tan jacket and has a deerskin briefcase on. I swerve to avoid him, the tires skidding out of my control, and am jolted back and forth. The car collides heavily with a street lamp and the airbag deploys.

Then everything goes black.