My Snowy Valentine

February 14th, Valentine’s Day was the coldest day of the year. At least it felt that way for Rose. She imagined that Cupid was short by exactly one arrow, because the rest of the world was in love. She was tired of being single, but terrified of intimacy. The thought of going on a date made her sick to her stomach.

The holiday fell on a Wednesday this year. Rose would have to work in the morning, but her romantic longing would not rest. She drank an entire bottle of Cabernet. Then she trudged purposefully into the yard in her robe and slippers.

There were several inches of snow on the ground, enough to build a snowman. And that’s exactly what she did. It was a haisty, sloppy job. Her hands were frozen into stiff red claws by the time she placed the head on top.

Rose began speaking to her creation with drunken enthusiasm.

“I wish you were real. I’d call you Jack”

“No, not like Jack Frost! That’s stupid!”

“Jack, like from Titanic.”

“Jack and Rose.”

“You’re Leonardo DiCrap- DiCaprio!”

“And I’m…suddenly very tired.”

She managed to drag herself to bed before passing out.

The next morning, the first thing she noticed was the wet sheets.

Oh no, I’ve pissed the bed.

She heaved herself to a standing position, turned around, and screamed.

There was a man in her bed.

“Who the hell are you?”

“It’s me, Jack. You said you were tired. I followed you to bed.”