And now for something completely different

As I'm struggling to blog every night because frankly, my life isn't that interesting, I thought I'd do the writing equivalent of strip naked. I'd post some of my fiction writing. One piece tonight, one tomorrow (if I still feel this brave) and then you can tell me which piece I should continue with. I wrote the below in about 15 minutes a couple of weeks ago.

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A First Brilliant Sight of Snow

I stop the car and, as the engine cuts out I realise that we are not alone - Silence surrounds us and coats us, it is absolute, an entity in itself. The earth we know is shut up and put away into a cupboard. This, the first and final sight of snow is heart-breaking in its beauty.

The flakes fold us into their crystalline embrace, confetti on our faces and in our hair. Genie looks up, blinks away the whiteness on his lashes, licks the flakes from his freckled nose. The trees are laden down, branches almost touching the ground so heavy are they. The lake itself is brilliantine, framed by white – trees, bulrushes, grassy banks – all gone under a smooth blanket of snow.

My face is wet, at first I think – I know – it to be snowflakes, of course. But then I realise it’s tears, falling out of my eyes like pearls, my body reacting before my mind can even take in the scene in front of me. Genie, out of the car, out of the train, the bus and the airplane, is frozen to the spot with the magic before us.

I put my arm tight around him, as close as I am permitted. But instead of pulling away, bashful, for once he nestles in close, head under my armpit, mittened hand around my waist. He looks at me and I look at him. He smiles at me, a smile I've not seen for a very long time. Not a smile of resignation, or acceptance, or mollification – sad though it is that a 7 year old knows how to do this. No, this is a smile of sheer pleasure.

I know he can’t wait any longer and I remove his arm from around my waist. I kneel down so I am face to face with him – and distracted by this, I manage to ram a fluffy fistful of snow down the back of his coat. He shrieks with laughter.

“Go on then, lie down!”

“You too, you too mum, you promised”

We fling ourselves onto the ground, arms and legs outstretched in a strange parody of a seizure. Back and forth we move our limbs. Leaping to our feet, to avoid ruining the outlines, Genie looks down at our snow angels and smirks.

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Thank you and goodnight,

Stupidgirl has left the building