Snow

I have no real title for this short story yet. However, The story takes place in 20th century Germany about a single father who lives somewhere in the woods... His child's gender is not specified, as it is irrelavent to the story itself.

 

                I arose from my slumber, awkwardly, looking out the four square window to my right. The usual hues of brown and green were absent from beyond the window, everything was white. Blinking, I rubbed my eyes to make sure I was not dreaming; no dream, the snow was real. There was a yelp of joy from the room next, and then the sounds of someone crashing across the room. The door slammed open, “Papa! It has snowed outside!”

“Yes, little one, go and get ready for school, then you may play outside”

                Without a moments notice the child bolted out the door, more crashing, the sound of running water could be heard from the bathroom. I chuckled to myself, and slowly got out of the king sized bed. The room was barren, aside from a desk with only a pen, a lamp, and a journal lay on top. A dresser, with the few pairs of clothes I had left. A trash can, littered with tissues lay next to the bed. I walked over to the desk with the open journal, grabbed the pen, flipped to the next page, and began to write.

15 January, 2005

To whom it may concern,

 

                Today we are blessed with a rare snow.

 

                I stopped there, staring off into the distance. I was interrupted out of my zone by the sounds of more crashing; the child ran into the room and pulled at my arm, “Papa! Hurry and dress yourself, I wish to build a snowman with you before school”

“Patience, little one, I will be out with you in a moment”

The child’s smile lit up the room, they ran out the door and could be seen out of the window rolling small snowballs on the white ground.

 

                I opened the top drawer of the dresser and took out a pair of socks and a brown cotton shirt, froze. Beneath the shirt was a picture, black and white, of a beautiful young woman, with long flowing hair, held by a younger looking me. Despite the lack of color in the photo, it radiated with life. A single tear slipped from my eye, quickly, I shut the drawer. Afterwards I put on my boots and gloves, opened the door to the outside. The stiff temperature change hit me like a brick wall. Waiting for my body to adjust to the heat, I looked around. The child was rolling a large snowball, its weight almost too heavy for them. The trees were bare, coated in a blanket of white, with the occasional “thump” of some snow falling on the ground, all was silent.

 

                Something hit my shoulder as some snow splashed into my face. The child, giggled behind a tree and poked their head out.

“You want to finish this snowman, little one?” I said.

“Yes! I will start on the next one, you finish that one”

The child quickly began clumping snowballs they had hidden behind the tree, before rolling it around. Rolling and pushing the large snowball, I then looked at it, the result was an odd circle-ish shape, but it would suffice.

“How’s the middle coming?” I asked.

“Almost done, Papa!”

The child began frantically rolling their snowball, huffing small clouds of breath into the air.

“Not to big now, little one”

I smiled and began to roll the head of the snowman.

 

                I had the head rolled at the same time the child began to return with the middle part of the snowman. Placing both parts on the base of the snowman, we stood back and looked, it was awkward, the middle section was as big as the base, and the head was small, out of proportion to the other two. The child looked up at me nervously with their bright green eyes, I smiled back.

“You should get on to school, little one, we can finish when you get home”

“Okay, goodbye Papa, I love you”

“I love you to, my child”

“Do you think mother is watching over us?”

“She is smiling, be swift or you will be late”

“Yes, Papa, bye”

The child quickly grabbed their backpack and ran down the road, making one more glance towards myself, before disappearing beyond the trees.

“I’m sorry I could not have been there for you…” I muttered to myself.

A moment of rage, confusion, anger, and grief overcame me, picking up a large wad of snow; I chucked it at the nearest tree, leaving a large white splat where it had hit. Breathing heavily, the moment was gone. I began to walk into the woods, towards the lake, the only sounds being a few birds chirping and the snow compacting beneath my boots. For about ten minutes I walked, looking at the white heaven that surrounded me. It reminded me of those days- those days I can never forget, nor can I explain.

               
                Without realizing how long I had walked, I stumbled into a clearing, almost falling into the lake. Looking around, tears filled my eyes. The lake was slowly, silently moving, not a sound did it make, with the occasional small piece of ice floating along, snowflakes taking refuge on its surface. Elegant, I thought. The trees were beautifully layered with a centimeter of snow, webbing and darting around in a more intricate work than my mind could completely process. The ground was disturbed not by and animal, nor man. It was almost unreal, the true beauty of this lake, breathtaking. I could not believe it, as tear after tear rolled down my cheeks, soundlessly making tiny holes in the snow below. For an eternity, it seemed, I stood there, becoming part of the scenery itself. I came to my senses as I found myself shivering almost uncontrollably, cheeks dry from tears.

“Our child should be home soon, I will go home to make them warm tea, and we will finish the snowman, together” I said, looking forward. As I walked away, the clouds began to part, where the sun began to shine its first rays on this world. I knew that I would never again, return to this place.

Author's Note

Ignore grammar errors, im not that good with grammar.

Reviews

[Deseret]

i noticed that you used the word 'room' twice in the same sentence in the first paragraph, this makes it seem very awkward. I would also suggest that you give the child a gender, so that you culd refer to it as a he or she to make the writing go smoother, even if you dont name it, also, instead of refering to it as "the child" since it is in first person view it would sound better if you say "my child" the first makes it seem like he doesn't love him/her. i do like the language though. -feel free to ignore all of this if it suits you-

[Wulfstan Crumble]

Grammar is not as important as some make out (and i'm an English teacher). so, do not worry too much about it right now. Editors can sort that out for you as will the spell checker on the comp. Life goes on through the grief and we can take comfort in the beauty of nature. This is a nice story with a lot of potential.

[Brenda Sue]

A wonderful story of life going on even in our grief. Beautifully penned. May have a few grammar errors but all in all it is a wonderful piece. Great job.

[zz]

It's interesting. I like how the child's gender isn't specified

[Sr.phil]

my style of writing is different, i completely smash the sentences together and begins new lines almost after every thought, but we all have different styles. I too suck at grammar, but it doesnt hurt to speed read through it before throwing it out there, so im not even going touch the grammar subject. I hate editing, thats why there are editors. I liked this, but, theres always a but huh?, lol. like the other review the person below me gave you, i too was kinda questioning you calling it "the child" but hey, its your writing. Overall, it was a really nice piece, it could use some review and planned out editing. Thumbs Up!.phil