Chronology and Winter Phenomena
Written for the prompt "snow had fallen, snow on snow".
Title: Chronology and Winter Phenomena
Series: Community
Length: 436 words
Genre: Introspective
Character: Annie
Summary: Somehow snow felt like freedom, at least for a little while.
Something about snow made Annie feel like a little girl in a magical winter wonderland.
Everyone around her seemed to feel the same way. The quad was full of students engaged in snowball fights, snowman building contests, and other forms of snow-induced goofing off.
There was plenty of time before class, and a pristine patch of fluffy snow called her name.
She shrugged out of her backpack and fell backwards onto the welcoming white blanket.
Slowly, she spread her arms and legs, open and closed, wide sweeps to leave the imprint of angel wings.
Her mother had never let her make snow angels. Angels were imaginary, first of all. And playing outside was a waste of time when she could be inside reading a book instead.
But now Annie was nineteen, all grown up and in charge of her own decisions. If she wanted to play instead of study, then that’s what she would do, dammit.
She brought her arms back to her sides and looked up at the gray January sky. The wet snow seeped into her jeans, and the cold air made her cheeks sting and her nose run.
This was what she’d wanted. Freedom. Even cold and wet freedom. Cold and wet freedom was good, actually, because it was tingly and shivery, like excitement. Playing wasn’t like being a child, because she never got to be a child. She’d always tried to be the good girl, doing what she could to live up to her mother’s expectations, and that had been a different kind of coldness, an empty and unforgiving kind.
It was no wonder she’d failed.
She closed her eyes and reveled in this shivery, tingly freedom until footsteps crunched in the snow beside her, and a shadow fell across her angel’s wings.
“Hey, if you hurry, you can grab a juice box before nap time,” Jeff said, and when she squinted up at him, he was looking at her with that usual smirky condescension. “Also, I need your Spanish notes.”
He’d insulted her and demanded a favor in the same breath. How did he do that?
Here she’d thought she was an adult playing at being a child. But once again he’d made her feel like she was a child playing at being an adult.
She shouldn’t care, but she did. She shouldn’t say, “In my bag,” but she did. She shouldn’t let him walk off with her notebook without a word of thanks, but she did.
That feeling of freedom vanished. Disappointed in herself, she stood, brushed the snow from her jeans, and went in search of a juice box.
Originally posted 1/15/12
Title: Chronology and Winter Phenomena
Series: Community
Length: 436 words
Genre: Introspective
Character: Annie
Summary: Somehow snow felt like freedom, at least for a little while.
Something about snow made Annie feel like a little girl in a magical winter wonderland.
Everyone around her seemed to feel the same way. The quad was full of students engaged in snowball fights, snowman building contests, and other forms of snow-induced goofing off.
There was plenty of time before class, and a pristine patch of fluffy snow called her name.
She shrugged out of her backpack and fell backwards onto the welcoming white blanket.
Slowly, she spread her arms and legs, open and closed, wide sweeps to leave the imprint of angel wings.
Her mother had never let her make snow angels. Angels were imaginary, first of all. And playing outside was a waste of time when she could be inside reading a book instead.
But now Annie was nineteen, all grown up and in charge of her own decisions. If she wanted to play instead of study, then that’s what she would do, dammit.
She brought her arms back to her sides and looked up at the gray January sky. The wet snow seeped into her jeans, and the cold air made her cheeks sting and her nose run.
This was what she’d wanted. Freedom. Even cold and wet freedom. Cold and wet freedom was good, actually, because it was tingly and shivery, like excitement. Playing wasn’t like being a child, because she never got to be a child. She’d always tried to be the good girl, doing what she could to live up to her mother’s expectations, and that had been a different kind of coldness, an empty and unforgiving kind.
It was no wonder she’d failed.
She closed her eyes and reveled in this shivery, tingly freedom until footsteps crunched in the snow beside her, and a shadow fell across her angel’s wings.
“Hey, if you hurry, you can grab a juice box before nap time,” Jeff said, and when she squinted up at him, he was looking at her with that usual smirky condescension. “Also, I need your Spanish notes.”
He’d insulted her and demanded a favor in the same breath. How did he do that?
Here she’d thought she was an adult playing at being a child. But once again he’d made her feel like she was a child playing at being an adult.
She shouldn’t care, but she did. She shouldn’t say, “In my bag,” but she did. She shouldn’t let him walk off with her notebook without a word of thanks, but she did.
That feeling of freedom vanished. Disappointed in herself, she stood, brushed the snow from her jeans, and went in search of a juice box.
Originally posted 1/15/12