Snow

I stepped onto the steps, cold air rushing toward me. Taking a deep breath, I watched it before me. I used to find visible breath extraordinarily entertaining. I’d raise my hand to my mouth with two fingers up, my breath looked like smoke. It was fun pretending to smoke, it looked cool.

I walked forward, stepping down the steps. I had decided to wear the rubber boots sitting by the door. They were bright yellow; I had never taken notice of them. Had they been mine all along? It didn’t matter.

I walked down the path leading away from our home. I looked out onto the ever-expanding neighborhood. It hadn’t changed, other than the empty plots of land further down. The land was sectioned off into where the separate complexes would be built. No construction was happening, perhaps they paused for the winter? Who knew.

My glasses had been fogged up, deeming them useless. I lifted them off my face and wiped them off. Cold specks of snow fell onto the area my glasses had once protected. I looked up, my blurry vision only allowed me to see so much.

I had always preferred winter, I enjoyed being cold. I believed sweat to be one of the most uncomfortable things known to man. I didn’t want to be sticky; I didn’t want to be sweaty; I didn’t want to overheat. Summer truly was the worst. I hadn’t noticed this year... I hadn’t noticed the heat; it hadn’t bothered me. Perhaps staying inside helped, inside in the air conditioning. I didn’t sweat, I had been comfortable all summer.

Perhaps... I could turn the heat off once I got home. When had I even turned it on? I didn’t remember turning it on... had I ever turned it on? I must’ve, I couldn’t remember ever being cold in our home. I wonder... was he clingy when cold? Would he huddle with me for warmth? If he would... I’d surely enjoy that.

My feet continued to crunch through the snow. I had always loved snow, it was pretty, cold, and edible. After it’d snow, I'd run outside and feast on it. It tasted good and had a nice texture. I enjoyed it immensely. I looked down toward the snow. It was new, it hadn’t been dirtied by the ways of daily life. I’m sure it would... in only a few days I'm sure it’d be dirtied.

I crouched down and took a handful of snow. The snow cold upon my hands, I hadn’t worn gloves. I didn’t like them. They caged my hands in uncomfortable layers of fabric, they limited the mobility of my joints... I really hated them. I’d rather have my hands fall off in frost bitten rage than succumb to such bounds.

The snow I held was perfect. It was the perfect snowball making snow, it was very mailable. I formed the snow into a ball, I pressed on it until complete round perfection. Once I was satisfied, I held the ball before my eyes. Ice crystals glistening in the gentle sun... it was beautiful. I raised the ball to my mouth and took a bite. The crunch of the icy bits... it was a perfect flavorless snow cone. After taking a few bites, I didn’t feel like finishing the rest. I got up and threw the rest onto the ground. The remnants of the ball left an indent as it fell down into the rest of the snow.

I continued my walk.

I looked up at the sky, the sun suggested it to be early day. I wonder how late I'd be? I hadn’t looked at my phone in months, I had little need for the connection it provided since I had a partner. Did he have a phone? Had he ever had a phone? I had always known him to be poor. He didn’t have much experience in anything. How had he lived? He didn’t bathe regularly, he was unsure of the use of modern technology, he was only learning how to read at this moment. Had he ever gone to school? Who were his parents? Did they have any expectations of him? Did they have another child they valued more, or would they never be able to value any children ever? I suppose he hadn’t seen them in a while, where were they? Had they left him with a relative, or had he truly been on his own? I was unsure. I knew very little of him, I had never asked. I couldn’t ask personal questions; I never had the courage to. Did he think I didn’t care? I did, I really did! I just didn’t want to ask him anything that’d make him uncomfortable... I’d be sure to ask when I got home.

I continued my steps; still crunching through the snow. I walked in whatever direction. I hadn’t thought about exactly what path I’d have to follow; I just had a feeling I knew; I could sense my ability to get there, it felt natural. Mounds of snow fell from the trees. I’ve always felt bad for them. Did the branches enjoy a weighted blanket of such? Did they enjoy it, or had they gotten used to it? I had no idea; nobody probably had any idea.

A sudden light brought me from my thoughts. An old streetlamp standing in front of a building. Its light wasn’t strong enough to light much of anything, what use did it provide? One spotty glimmer of light amidst the darkness? It didn't seem like much; it didn’t seem like anything. Did it live off its technicalities of serving a purpose? Did it really believe itself to be of any value? I didn’t know why, but its pathetic existence bothered me. I couldn’t stand it.

I looked at the building behind it, it was the school. I wasn't nervous, I could swear truthfully about my lack of nerves, but now... seeing that building before me, only utter fear coursed through my veins. The building was of a decent size, constructed of brick. The school was old, outside and in. Thankfully, no students were present outside, I suppose it was too cold.

I watched my breath fade into the surrounding air, I stepped forward.