Man Maker

I love the snow.

            It’s always so pleasant in my bed. I’m wrapped up in a blanket, warm as if it’s electric. My teddy bear is pressed against my chest, a winter and a spring of memories wrapped up in my arms. I don’t know if it’s cold in my room, but the warmth of my sheets and the warmth of myself are enough incentive for me to remain unaware. So I stay with my memories and my blankets until I get the courage to get out of bed.

            When I finally stumble downstairs the coffee is still on and still hot and it warms my freshly frozen body. I peer out the window and the ground looks warm with its brilliant blankets and purring winds and I wish I was back in bed. It seems like the summer was just on the trees, on fire with foliage. But now they are bare and summer is six months in either direction.

            So I put on black gloves and a scarf, wishful thinking for such a cold day. I step outside and feel my nose turn red. My feet sink in the cotton ground, a crunching soft beneath my feet. I stare up at the deceiving sun and squint, and breathe into my fist. I sing songs and build men and call angels down from heaven.

            And the clouds fall out of the sky.

Reviews

[Lauren Marie]

Loved all the lyricism and visual elements you put into this story.

Nicely done!
~Lauren

[Raven Held]

What I like about your writing, personally, is how it seems simple on the surface - it's easy reading - but you deftly, sneakily, insert beautiful and concise phrases and expressions that make your prose magical:

'a spring of memories', 'purring winds', 'like the summer was just on the trees, on fire with foliage'.

And the last part is what I love. It's uplifting and you did a great job building up the climax, where despite all the mundanity of a cold winter's morning, you find potential in a new day.

All in all, great job. Thanks for sharing!

Raven

[Bella]

This is very creative, and it has a nice flow. I really like it.

[Michelle Espinosa]

that's lovely.