The Snow At My House

first writing assignment for my new writing group

The greywhite reflected light spreads out across the ceiling. It is still, like no-power mornings when everything, even the ever diligent refrigerator, is held in a quiet revere. For a moment I think there is no power but the alarm taps me on the ear and I hit snooze but get up anyway.

There is heat so there is power and I stand in the warmth of my livingroom on the cold tile by the door and am reminded again that I need something for the thieving draft that steals its way in over the gap in the threshold. On the other side of the door’s window, snow makes a feeble attempt to camouflage the grass into an edgeless, smooth world but accomplishes only part of her goal and the yard is salt and pepper outlined in frozen road in the colorless light.

The alarm taps me on the ear again and I return to hit snooze. Curl under the blankets and cats come to wedge themselves snuggly between warm me and cooler room. The dog across the street barks out today’s four word phrase: Snow Cold In Please! Snow Cold In Please! The alarm begs for attention again and I dismiss it from duty altogether. Snow Cold In Please! Snow Cold In Please! His family finally gets the message and he is readmitted to their warmth.

Breathe in quiet. Think how glad I am it is not Sunday. Breathe out into stillness. Remember a conversation with a friend from last night that was the polar opposite of an icy road in a frozen land and my heart is warm all over again. Breathe in. Greywhite brightens the room a tiny bit more. Purring. No alarm. Breathe out. Sleep.


6 thoughts on “The Snow At My House

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