SS: Snow

Alright, I’m clueless as to what to blog about.  That means I take on a writing prompt or challenge.  <Oh, wait you didn’t know that?  Well now you do.  And you can submit a suggestion at any time.>

[About Cat Hartliebe] [Cat Hartliebe’s Books]
Taken from  365 Creative Writing Prompts
Day 1. Outside the Window: What’s the weather outside your window doing right now? If that’s not inspiring, what’s the weather like somewhere you wish you could be?

Oh this one is a nice example of what should I write about.  I can repeat this one too throughout the year and get different results.  I guess that’s the point of a writing prompt.  It’s repeatable and has a lot that you can work with.  Now on with the story!


‘That’s snow.’ I pause watching the snowflakes drift to the ground.  Even though many call it spring already, we still get a snowstorm.  Will there be snow on the ground by morning or will everything be gone?

“Alicia, I need you.”  That’s the boss.  No more looking at the snow outside.  It doesn’t help anyway.  The snow reminds me of you.  You hated when it snowed, but since I loved it, we would go out and bask in the falling ice crystals.  “Alicia!”

I scurry onward to the boss and his requirement.  Work is nothing I would call important, but the management always seems to think it is.  If I don’t act like it is, then I’ll get fired.  Such is life.

You never cared whether I had a job or not.  We could get by together.  Yet I continued with it.  Why did I continue with a job I hated?  Oh that’s right, you explain before you left: I never thought it would last.

“Are you crying, Alicia?  I know that guy is such a jerk.  Tell me everything.”  She works with me and we both lament about our boss.  But today, right now, my tears are self made.  I sent you away.  You left me.  Not for someone else.  Not for dirt and soil.  Not for family.  You left me because I was always one step from leaving you.  If I cannot face the fact, no one will want to stay.

I cry because I am lonely.  My eyes gravitate to the window again.  It’s still snowing.  Are you thinking of me?  Is it snowing near you?  I regret letting you leave.  I miss you.

[About Cat Hartliebe] [Fiction Short Stories] [Cat Hartliebe’s Books]

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