Carrots in the Snow

Carrot in Snow

They watched as the giggling children scampered inside. Saturday and it had snowed. The animating magic shimmered in the air.

It would be bleak tonight night, auguring well for tomorrow.

They waited statue-still until the curtains were closed, the lights turned out, the house lethargic. Rules were rules. No sense in risking having the gift revoked.

Winston waggled his short arm. The children hadn’t bothered to match it to the other. Part of the game was using what you had, what you could find. Anyway, the arms weren’t the fun part.

Clementine kept her smile for the moment. She knew Winston would be annoyed by the arm. Not even his top hat would appease him.

“There’s a better one just over there,” he grumbled.

“Don’t be silly,” she replied, “they made you better than you deserve.”

He flapped both his arms at her, and they laughed. Life, glorious life, in their bodies.

They began to plan a trip to see the northern lights. In ice-cold crates they would send themselves to stand in awe beneath the ribbons of colour. There, they would make legs of pine and defy gravity with their toddler tottering. Oh, the joy of self-propulsion.

At midnight, a dusting of fresh snow. Fluffy new hats and cloaks. Winston had forgotten to worry about his short arm. His top hat was now white. Splendid high society.

At one, they softly sang a hymn of thanks to the children.

At two, the night began to warm. They lost fine new clothes.

At three, the sadness took them. They were starting to droop with age.

A thought occurred to Winston. “We should go sky-diving,” he said.

“Before or after the Northern Lights?” said Clementine.

“After of course. Into a volcano.”

For a while they were happy again.

At six, when not a lot was left of them, they mumbled a lament. They were not sad, except for parting with each other.

At eight the children came: rushing, tumbling, cavorting from the house. They stopped in shock to look upon the graves of their friends. With all solemnity, they stood in silence around the carrots in the snow.

Flash Response to Christmas Snow

Writing begun 19-01-23 | 357 words

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Mole
Mole
1 year ago

Fantastic writing, loved it! ❄️