I tighten my boots, to reassure my timid feet that they'll be okay.
"It's winter again." I try to convince myself that that's something to be happy about.
I take in air from my nostrils with my eyebrows raised, and give my house a warmth breath.
I step outside and take my time shutting the door, as I feel my house's warm air rush out like it was chasing something dear to them.
The thud came, as the door came to a full close. The sound was short and echoed-not, as if the cold put its hand over its mouth in attempt to hide a secret.
I curl up my toes inside my boot as I take my first step down the wintery porch steps. But the snow ran away from my feet. It was thin and
light like dust, and it scurried off every time my steps puffed.
I shuffle my feet quickly on the flake covered sidewalk, and instead of scurrying off, the snow took flight.
They soared for the first time near my flushed cheeks, and I perked my chapped lips and blew at them softly. They came rushing back at my face
and gave damp kisses on my crinkled nose. It felt cold but content, as if they were trying to thank me for temporarily giving them wings.
I stood still, and unhurriedly watched what was around me, like I was taking a panoramic photo with my eyes. The houses were hibernating
in their snow coats and the cars were napping with their favorite white blanket. The roads were pale with mud-colored tire tracks, and the
trees spoke no words as the wind tried whispering in their ears. I looked above me, in hopes that the grey sky would smile back at me, like
how the clear blue skies used to do. But it didn't. Instead, it held me snug and loved me like a mother would.
Who knew a colorless sight could speak in such colorful ways.