The snow was falling as I shuffled my wire encased running shoes through the unblemished mass. The air was still and the sun was beginning to rise. I could feel liquid falling from my nose and tried to wipe it with my wooly mittens. Smiling I could smell spring. It was flirting with the sky, the sounds, even the white covered ground. The first time since the sadness had covered my being I felt hope and future. The sack of mourning was lifting, guilt at its heels to pull me back into the blackness. I walked faster into the light of the day…
3 comments:
I like this. I can feel the sadness creeping in with vengeance, lately.
It is an arbitrary phantom waiting to assault your spirit. I am fighting by celebrating the times in between.
I smelled skunks and admired the watery lavendar and gray of the March sky behind branches that are months away from leafing out. Why is your writing, which is intensely personal, so universal? I love it.
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