Monday, December 5, 2011

Snow {'Twas the Write Before Christmas}










She forces herself to sit up in bed. Slowly pushing up her tired body and worn mind. She has no desire to leave the warmth of the down comforter that is piled up around her like mounds of snow.

Snow.

White. Pure. Fresh.

She can see just a glimpse out of her window. A peak at the snow laden branches bending and drooping. Succumbing to the weight of the snow pressing on them. How funny it is that people look at this and see beauty she scoffs, falling back into bed. Beauty, harrumph.

No longer does she see the snow glowing through the trees or the light sparkling across the it like diamonds. No snow makes her feel likes those branches. Weighed down and heavy. It does nothing but bring her back to the day when her world swirled and crumbled around her, like the snow in a snow globe. Only when her snow settled her quaint little life wasn’t still standing gleaming at the bottom, glistening under the sparkle of fresh snow. No her life was a pile of broken branches, weighted down to their demise by the something that was supposed to be beautiful and pure.



We're taking 5 minutes to reveal in the creativity and inspiration of the season, join us? 'Twas the Write Before Christmas (but it could also be the Photo, the Poem, The Recipe, the....)

Write before Christmas




Photo Source: imgfave.com via Ally on Pinterest

5 comments:

alita jewel said...

Nice descriptive words Mel. The snow is whipped into a frenzy of magic, but seen through her eyes it is just weight. Maybe the bones of the trees are more freeing for her. Maybe she will love the snow again some day, life is a miracle.

It gives me hope to read a piece of fiction like this. I'm always hoping for a happy ending, but pleased with the endings that are not as lucky. There is always room in someones life for change. Even fictional characters can wake the very next morning and have a complete change of heart.

Hyacynth said...

So beautiful, so relateable. Well written and painted.

May said...

Oh, I love the metaphors..the weight, the freshness turning to brokenness instead, the snow globe. Very nice piece of writing.

Stephanie said...

Mmm...I know this heavy laden, pile of broken branches feeling. It's why I am struggling so much with winter...because last winter was probably my worst when the darkness and the cold of winter mirrored the lonely, darkness of my heart in the worst stages of my depression. I love how you painted this picture...because, as beautiful as the snow is, it buries those secrets we don't want to be seen. And sometimes those secrets need to be revealed, so we can heal and so others can heal.

Ginny Marie said...

Such a different point of view; not what I expected at all! A beautiful piece, Melissa.

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