snow | me.you.coffee

June

Ever since she’d been little she’d harboured romantic notions of curling up by the fire with a steaming hot chocolate and a good book, every now and then turning to read aloud the bits that made her smile to the one she loved.

But it had been a long winter. There was no fire. No chocolate (hot or otherwise). The books had been read, sold & turned into sustenance.

Her wrinkled fingers shakily pulled the itchy blanket close to her chin. The ball of fur on her lap twitched an ear.

She closed her eyes as the bitterness kissed her lips.

Back once again after another hiatus. Here’s a little 100-worder for Friday Fictioneers, hosted by Rochelle. Please feel free to comment, critique, like or subscribe for more!

Oh, and don’t forget to check out the other stories based on this picture.

roger-bultot-flower

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When the snow came

I did something new recently. I enrolled on a course. 15 years since my last involvement at college I decided to learn more about what I’m starting to love doing. Writing. I’m sure you’ll hear me bleat on about that in further bloggages, but for now I thought I’d have a quick stab at one of the exercises that we ran out of time to cover.

The brief: Write a few words on the following line “When the snow came“.

I was sat on the edge of the bed when the snow came.
Watching as it fell, slowly, like white rain.
The warmth of my room was hugging me close,
as the roads and the pavements and dripping taps froze.

I sat and I stared when the snow fell.
Watching as it erased all colour from the world.
Replacing the filth and the dirt and the grime,
with a fresh sheet of paper to start a new time.

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June

When the snow came