Gorgeous snow fell, headlong, self-propelled objects. They knew they wanted to hit the ground, yet disliked the curious bumping into one another. The flakes looked erratic and senseless. A wind kicked up a distraction, and danced the snow like Tasmanian devils – move, move,
move… In the final three feet of descent, the crystals cascaded, indistinguishable, heaped all together at
the edge of Eileen’s porch.
The blizzard finally petered
out mid-morning.
School was cancelled. Neighborhood children had been yelling and
throwing the snow from one yard to the next most of the morning. Women bundled little ones and plunked them in
the powder while they held steaming coffees and compared stories. Bent old men and grumbling teenagers shoveled
paths from their doors to the road. Someone had thought to
shovel a path for Eileen, but it was still covered with a thin
layer of ice. It was not a good idea to take her hip on a walk for the mail until she
could clearly see the pavement of her driveway.
Until the road had been warmed by cars of the young and brave.
Heavy snow kept her locked up like a naughty child in timeout, forgotten. She heard all the glee and energy from inside her house and felt punished. Eileen waved at the Zimmerman boys as they shoveled sidewalks, but they could not see her...
