Snowy Commute
The longest wait
Wrapping my plaid scarf around my face, I head out my front door. It’s early, the overcast sky adding to the darkness of the winter morning.
The stillness captivates me, the crunch of my boots in the deep snow is the only sound as I make my way to the bus stop. Lazy flakes continue to fall, and glittering trees turn the plain street magical.
The first snowfall was always exciting.
Similarly bundled faces greet me as I take a place near the bus shelter, and I return their muffled “Hellos” with a courteous nod.
The air around us fogs from our combined breaths and the sound of stomping feet is loud as we try to keep our toes from freezing.
We focus our stares on the slow-moving traffic, hopeful our ride is just around the corner.
It’s snowing harder now, the flakes hitting with stinging force against wind-chapped cheeks. The same frost that coats the trees now coats my eyelashes. I don’t think it looks as nice on me as it does on the trees.
As the minutes tick by without any sign of our bus, the frozen landscape no longer seems so mystical. Booted feet shuffle restlessly, and scarfs are pulled tighter as a sort of desperation fills the surrounding group.
Using my teeth to pull my glove off, I check the app on my phone. “Delayed by 20 minutes,” I gasp.
A collective groan from my fellows before someone mumbles. “Damn. I miss summer!”
About the Creator
Heather Zieffle
I've been writing for a few years, and I'm grateful to have found my passion! I've self-published several sci-fi romance novels on Amazon, but want to branch out into fantasy soon. Any feedback is welcome!
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Peanuts and Crackerjack
Bottom of the ninth inning. The game is tied with two outs, two strikes and a man on second. I tap the bat on home plate. The rigid vibrations it creates reminds my aching digits that this isn't over. The practice swing only adds to the heft of mental burnout... Man on second, willing to chance it. Pitcher eyes him but doesn't give in to the dangerous bluff. I kick up dust, readying the peculiar stance I've had since the days of little league. The bat lays stiff upon my cramping shoulder. Pain has no reason to be acknowledged; it's a fleeting afterthought. The sun sits passed high noon, but the stadium lights are on anyway. They trick my brain into believing they are the cause of this sweltering heat. Sporadic clouds are motionless, they too, don't want to miss this exhilarating predicament. Anticipating the next pitch, intensifying roars from the crowd rumble the stadium... Behind me, the crafty catcher adjusts his stance and spits to the dry dirt. Behind him, the staunch umpire doesn't flinch or even blink; he knows how important his call will be. The pitcher winds up, his grip tells me its gonna curve. The release is fierce! Beads of sweat from his hair and face disperse in every direction as the force of his might is unfailing. My left leg lifts—an instinctual move that will increase the power of my swing. It's all down to my two, bloodshot eyes. They lock onto the speeding, white dot as it instantly becomes the target I intend to destroy. The swing is late, but I manage a solid tip. The ball is taking a fast bounce toward the pitcher who is recovering from the almighty throw! Man on second leaves in a desperate rush! I fling the bat to the side with a sense of urgency and make a mad sprint to the only destination I have—first base. Three defenders race inward to be the first to retrieve the skidding ball. Man is almost on third! I watch the open glove of my adversary, wondering if I’ve done enough to win this race. I switch my attention to his eyes, looking for a clue, some kind of reaction that tells me the ball is in the air and heading his way. All I see is frustration. The deafening roar of the crowd spikes! Something happens that I can’t see! My opponent abandons his post right as my left stride touches the bag. I waste no time turning my head to see the pitcher laying on his stomach, pounding the mound with an open glove. He misses the opportunity to out me and the ball has quickly bounced past him. Excitement grows! This isn’t over yet... It's become an imperative fight to tag out the runner heading homeward. The catcher falls to his knees in obvious despair as he watches my teammate make the run of his life. He knows it’s going to be close when he sees the shortstop fumble the ball a second too long. I jump up and down with no plans on leaving first base. All my chips are on the speed and agility of the active runner. His cleats dig into the dirt, trailing a dust-filled cyclone from the rapid and strenuous strides. With a thrusting dive and an outstretched arm, he lands on his chest to begin the crucial slide to home plate. The shortstop fires the ball to the catcher! It immediately begins closing the gap! Nail-biting doesn't begin to describe the anxious vibe permeating the stadium. The bench begins to celebrate even before he reaches the plate. Forty thousand cheering fans reach maximum crescendo, filling the air with a glorious sound. Everyone knows how this story will end… My teammate is met by the entire bench as his fingers inch across home plate, instantly followed by the unmistakable motion of the catcher's glove attempting to tag him out—its milliseconds too late. The ump swings his arms outward, officially calling him safe.
By Lamar Wiggins6 days ago in Fiction
When The End Comes Too Soon
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By Kelli Sheckler-Amsdena day ago in Fiction
Comments (11)
Hi-Hz ~ Such a marvelous StoryTeller ~ I'm putting on my gloves as a read through; never owned a scarf. Living in So. Cal we have the beach/snow/desert within short reach; but, I've never felt the need to do snow-cold; even to impress the girls....Hmm! - Always with my Respect - j.in.l.a.
Congrats on Top Story!🥳
Remarkable job! Maintain the fantastic work—congrats!
Well written 😌✨
Wonderfully relatable 😌
This is exceptional. Taking a tiny relatable slice of life and just using that to deftly describe the details so that we feel like we're there. Stunning work Heather, congrats on a fine fine Top Story!
Oh, how I relate to this. Excellent, skilfully procured!
Great tekst
A good read, invoking all kinds of community & shivers! Congrats on TS!
Been there more than once My toes are still frozen Congratulations
Awesome work! Your writing really pulls the reader into the scene- a masterfully drawn moment! Congrats on the top story!! :)