Snow Caps

© Rochelle Wisoff-Fields

Four days after a historic snow blizzard that shook the city, Melissa was certain it was only a matter of time before people began to tumble on the ice.

After multiple near-misses, she slid and fell too. Fortunately, she wasn’t hurt – accustomed to falling ever so randomly.

That’s when she felt a gentle squeeze on her arm. “Are you OK?” Tall, slender, with glistening emerald eyes, Nick – as she would soon learn – was genuinely concerned. “May I offer you a hot chocolate to toss off the cold?”

And somehow like that, each day becomes unique, fascinating, and seldom boring.

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

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An optimistic thought

Every person you meet is a potential friend, contact, associate. Think about it. Your soulmate may be hidden behind the next eyes you contact at a first glance. Your best friend may be the person whose hand you’ll timidly shake. An associate may be found in the face you stutter at during an ice-breaking chat.

Every meeting is a possible life-changing one.

Isn’t that an optimistic and hopeful thought to make?

We never really know the truth in the expression “pleasure to meet you”, which we say in greeting someone new. We only acknowledge its true sense after time has passed and we get to know that person in depth. Sometimes it’s not a pleasure at all. But we don’t start off that way. We begin with the hope that this will be a significant encounter; one that will last and will be mutually beneficial and fruitful.

There are all sorts of people we meet. Some stay with us constantly, others come and go, and others only make a brief passage. But there is a sense of relief and gratitude in knowing that special relationships are never lost. People whom you’ve experienced things with in the past, who were part of your life, no matter how short or long a period, will always be there when you (or they) need help. That’s what friendship is.

We tend to seek reciprocity in our relations. But sometimes, what you give takes a long time to come back to you – if at all. That should not be the reason for doing what we do, however. We act in kindness because it’s a character trait. Put simply, it’s nice to be nice. And it’s definitely gratifying. It adds a spring to your step and a smile to your face. And all you really need in the end, is someone who asks how you are, who wants patiently to listen to your response, and who you can hear smiling in genuine satisfaction when all is well.

Lessons from an hourglass

©MCD

It was an object he knew very well. It was how his grandmother had taught him to keep time when cooking. Now, as a prominent, chef he had more technologically-advanced resources to measure time, but the hourglass remained his favourite good-luck charm. For him it was a symbol of love, care and safety. Through it, he felt his grandmother still present, along with the sense of security she emanated, and the determination he was filled with – when around her – to make her proud.

At times of hardship, he would sit in silence watching the sands slip down the center of the hourglass, observing how fast time passed. It often took a while before he remembered that “the greatest amount of wasted time is the time not getting started” (Dawson Trotman); the time not spent with people we love, doing what we’re passionate about, having fun and enjoying life.

His grandmother had told him that “time has a wonderful way of showing us what really matters. You turn the hourglass upside down every now and then, to keep time running. Your life does that to you too”.

It took a while before he fully understood what she meant.

Never a time waste

©Dale Rogerson

The speech had just ended and Sarah thought it was the most boring two hours of her life. Jonas had the same view. “What a time waste!” he was heard saying in the reception area, glass of wine in hand. Sarah’s eyes met his glance and he approached her. “Politicians never have something new to say, don’t you think?” he suggested as he handed her a topped-up wine glass.

She smiled, blushing at his communicative spirit, the ease with which he started a conversation with someone unknown.

“Yes,” she finally agreed. “But perhaps the evening will now be more interesting”.

 

Also part of Friday Fictioneers

The tunnel

She first saw him on a sunny day, in a field strewn with golden hay. He gazed into her eyes with a smile imprinted on his face. She blushed and smiled back, eyes sparkling like diamonds in the sun. He came closer and let his fingertips brush against her arm. She chuckled and lowered her gaze.

Ahead was a tunnel. It mystified and intrigued them at the same time. It was one none had traversed before and it conveyed a sense of foreboding inside them, of exploring the unknown. It made them feel excited, sending shivers down both their spines and rapidly increasing the beats of their hearts. Their hands locked and they entered. Together.

The tunnel was as mysterious and unnerving inside, as it appeared from the outside. It smelled of roses and lilies and offered them food and drink and luxuries to fill their heart’s desire. At first. For later, no-one was to expect what would ensue.

It was surprisingly brightly lit for a tunnel. They realized only too late that it was their own glow that provided the light.

When the first storm came they had nowhere to hide. The tunnel had only one exit and that lay straight ahead. There were no sidesteps, no alcoves, to shade them from the wrath of a suppressed storm. Yet they never let go of each other’s hand. Even if they held on by a finger, they still held on.

After the storm, peace and calm soon followed. And everything seemed to return to the bright, tranquil path in which they had commenced their journey.

“I thought we’d never come back from that one.” This was the first thought both had, grateful they still had each other.

But they soon grew tired. Of walking. Of waiting. Of expecting. It seemed that they were looking for a way out that never came. It was not yet even in sight. And the storm returned. Heavier and more forceful than the first. Everyone told them to be aware of storms and the lightening, but no-one ever warned them of the thunder that came along. For the bangs were deafening and shuddered the very center of their hearts.

They survived yet again, but it was not the same. Something had been broken inside and they could no longer enjoy the tranquilities after the rain, as they first did. Yet they still held hands. Even as the tunnel darkened more and more.

Three years, seven months and 19 days they spent in the tunnel.

When they finally found the exit at the other end, they felt the last winter snowflakes splash onto their nose. It was a pleasant coolness from the humidity from which they emerged. They smiled, but it was a crooked smile. One almost forced. The melancholy released from their prolonged sigh wafted in the air around them. And in the second blink of an eye, the sun appeared from behind the clouds, restoring its light on their darkened eyes. But it could no longer retain the glow of their souls.

They had surfaced from the tunnel seemingly unscathed, but inside, they would never be the same again. They were not the same people they were when they entered. He looked in her eyes and searched for that initial sparkle, but it was gone. And she could no longer fix a smile upon his face. They could not recognize each other anymore.

And that is when it happened.

Their hands unlocked and drifted to their respective sides.

The pain in their heart was more than they could ever bear, but all they could do was struggle to go on.

Yet they always vividly remembered their tunnel journey with its memory forever engraved in their souls.

The tunnel experience made them stronger, for it too made them wiser in the ways of this world.

 

Also part of Daily Prompt: Use It or Lose It