Snowfall

The first flake splatted into the ground, as if the sky was throwing paint. Snow is usually silent, but these flakes were enormous, bigger than dollar coins, falling straight down with purpose and meaning, none of that time wasting gently wafting nonsense. The stranger nudged me from behind, and I realized I was standing transfixed in the doorway of the coffee shop. I scooted to the side to let him past, and watched as he stumbled to his car, the instant slickness of the parking lot turning him into a drunken sailor. I could see my bicycle propped up on the sidewalk, seat looking wet and cold in the splotchy whiteness. No. Just no. I went back inside, plopped my bag and helmet down, and back to the cashier.

"Hot chocolate for here please. You don’t by any chance have tiny marshmallows do you? This looks like apocalypse level snow."

"Well", said the cashier, "I have a few in my locker. I go on break in ten. If you wait, I’ll come out and share them with you".

"Sounds good", I said. Looking around the cafe, I realized I was the only customer. I took a seat by the window to watch the snow and wait for my drink. In the time it had taken me to order, the road and sidewalk had been completely covered. There was a car in the parking lot with its door open, a lumpy mound of snow next to it. Was that the car belonging to the stranger? On the sidewalk across the street there were other mounds, one had a streak of orange fabric on top, rapidly disappearing under falling snow.

Jumping up and over to the window, I strained to look as far as I could up and down the street. There were no people to be seen. There were some cars moving about, but most had stopped. Scattered about were more mounds in the snow, many on the sidewalk, and some near cars in the middle of the road.

Sirens were blaring across the city, the muffling snowfall masking their distance. Quite a lot of them were going, more than I had ever heard before. A different sound pulled my attention from the window. A jangling of text notifications from my phone. As I turned to check it, I caught a glimpse of a screaming face behind the shop window across the street. I strained to see it again, but the snow was falling thicker now. Fist sized flakes piling in drifts already reaching the car bumpers. I could no longer see across the street.

The texting continued, I turned and grabbed the phone out of my bag, just as the cashier approached the table, steaming cup in each hand. Message previews streamed across the face of my phone, all of them some sort of "Where are you" or "Are you OK?" I started swiping them away as the cashier set down the cups and took out their own phone. After a dozen swipes, the messages changed to "Don’t go outside" over and over, everyone sending the same thing.

I slid into the seat, dropping my phone on the table. Heat racing, palms sweaty, I gripped the cup with both hands. Something to hold onto as I felt the world spinning around me. And I could still hear the snow falling, plopping down, onto the massive drifts outside.

The cashier looked at me, face pale, arms shaky, putting their phone down. “Don’t go outside” is all they could say. I forced myself to look out the window again. It was getting dark now, the snow was still thickening, flakes the size of phones were falling, still straight down, slamming into the snow in a staccato of ominous plops. "Yeah". I replied. "Don’t go outside."