WAITING FOR SNOW

Where do the days go?

I have gone all recluse!

Time stands still, except for the insistent bells of several local churches telling it in song form.  That, and the chortle of pigeons huddled on the sills is the ambient soundtrack of my life these last many days.  Above that track, the sound effects track is a collage of sometimes television, sometimes radio, Often silence, and in the in-between, tap tapping of fingers on a keyboard.  Tonight I ventured out and on to a bus for the weekly meeting of my writing group, noted who was reading a book, and who were on their phone devices when the middle woman suddenly looked up.

 

Hence the blur as I whipped the camera around hoping to indicate I was looking at something else.  This is the fluorescent light bar I looked at.

Walking toward the center then, I passed this window

pulsating in time to the tunes from inside.  I imagined them, their lives in there, a whole other planet and these lights, their night sky.

The first prompt was introduced by reading of a portion of "Child's Christmas in Wales" by Dylan Thomas, and the instruction--simply to write about snow.  Twenty minutes later, the stories were as varied as the six participants.  Mine featured a child waiting for snow at bedtime, then dreaming herself through a magical Solstice scene, and waking to snow.

Tonight, I am that waiting one.