March 20

A Story by som

Before reading this story, please read its prequel Winter Agony (also one of my works).

Burnt out woods from the fireplace and dry coffee stains on the bottom of the cup, I wake up. I stretch my arms and push down my woolen blanket. The sun piercing through the window has called upon my name. I, still half asleep, sit upright on the bed. A bit unconscious, I ask myself "Why am I sweating? What is this warm feeling?" I used to feel a warm that would only entangle around but this type of warmth now goes throughout my body. This is unbeknownst to me.

Hearing the birds chirp, I peek through the windowpane. As my eyes revel slowly, I can no longer see the snow. The images I see which was once full of white is now covered with vast green colors and goes straight until it touches the sun. Also, the red maple tree which was once naked is now starting to grow. The plain that was frosted has now melted.

I get up from my bed and head right away to the kitchen. Two levels below and one step left from the sink, I open the draw and pick up a glass. Behind me is a sweating pitcher from the cold last night. I pour a lot of water into my glass and gulp it straightaway, quenching my thirst and washing away the remnants of coffee lingering in my tongue. From a distance, I see my doorway flooded. Small amount of water crawling towards as it reflects the sunlight from the window to my eyes. I hurriedly rush underneath the staircase to get a towel and wipe the floor.

As I finish drying the floor, I calmly walk to the living room and sit on the couch while staring in the wall, still cannot process this all. I wonder "Did it finally come? Is this it?" Astonishingly, I smirk. After all, this is what I really long for.

I blend some frozen fruits from the refrigerator then head back on the couch with my foot elevated with this small wooden chair. I grab the nearest cushion and turn on the television.

As afternoon comes, I thought to stroll outside. In every step, I observe the thawed snow that was once very thick and silver. I did not go far away and faced back immediately and what I see comforts me but somehow hurts me. From the edges of the cabin roof peacefully fall droplets of water. Now, I remember.

Adieu, my winter wren.