It snowed today. My flowers had seemed a little droopy lately, I suppose this is why. It's beautiful though. By tomorrow, I'm sure it'll be a gray slush, but for now, it's like a beautiful cloud consuming all the mess of the earth's surface.
I have a lot of memories from when it snowed, so it's easy to look back at them when I look at the little snowflakes. The day my crush asked me to dance, it was snowing. My birthday that I spent hours alone after the bowling alley close, it snowed. The day I spent over eight hours building a snow fort, it was snowing. The day I learned to smile for others, it snowed. The day I took a nap in a snowbank to ease my headache, it snowed. And today, when a horrifying truth was revealed to me, it snowed.
The feeling of snowflakes on my lashes and chilling my nose is so bitter sweet, but it makes me happy. Like I could dance between the trees and disappear for hours without a care in the world. I makes me feel beautiful, a spec of color in a colorless world. But, it also makes me feel sad. Winter is a time when things die. When they go to sleep until spring comes.
20 percent. That's how many people in the United States have that dreadful disease at the moment. My uncle, aunt, and their children have all come down with a terrible "cold". They don't have insurance since my uncle is self employed so they refuse to go to the doctor's, but... they are coughing endlessly and having difficulty breathing. My aunt and uncle don't really think covid is real. They believe that its just this years flu. They aren't worried, so I shouldn't be either, right?
Snow. It's a beautiful, icy queen who kisses and slaughters her subjects on a whim.
What will she choose to do to us?