02.16.06

la grasse matinee

The snow is slowly falling off of the braches of the trees, the sun has come out and it is shining very warmly, it was shining very warmly on my back. The snow was up to my waist, the trees were bowing under the immense weight, sinking to the ground.
Really, it was beautiful.
So the snow now is falling from the trees like glitter, glistening in the sun suddenly. The piles of it silently implode and shower us with their little crystals and for a while, it is almost as if it is snowing again. Of course it isn�t.
The ploughs have cleared the paths, they have spread sand and salt everywhere so the snow melts, turns brown, becomes slush and pools of water on the sidewalk.
In some places though, no one walks there enough for anyone to care.
Walking back from one of these places I grabbed a bit of snow from a tree in my bare palm. I was surprised to remember how soft it was, how gentle and how light the snow (which seemed so white and immobile and pure) was. I was surprised that my fingers hadn�t started to burn. The feeling of the snow in my hand was good and as I walked along I picked up another bit, crushing it in my hand still I formed a tiny ball, moving my fingers back and forth. When I was done there was this small white hard mass in my hand, like a miniature heart, not round but circular in its own way.
For a while, I looked at it, gently tossing it around in my palm. My fingers stung. Blood was pulsing through, burning with warmth.
So I ate it.

shi-ou-sama at 12:41 a.m.

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