“Wake up, sweet child. It’s time to dress.”
She stirs her daughter from a peaceful slumber to let her know that time has come.
“But Papa?” the child wonders. “What about Papa? Won’t he be mad? Won’t he say it’s still his turn?”
“Papa is tired,” Mother tells her. “He’s ready to rest now.”
She’s confused, the little girl. Mother doesn’t blame her. She can see that the land is still covered in white, and how the trees still look like giant marshmallows. She felt last night's storm.
The child so young, yet wise beyond her time. It is too soon; much too soon. But the world has changed. It’s not like it was in her elder sisters’ time, and will change again before her younger sisters’ time. The child doesn’t realize that last night’s storm was Papa’s swan song. He is weak and growing more tired with every cycle of seasons.
The land may be covered in a fluffy blanket of white today, but underneath, blades of green are stirring, eager to poke their heads out into the cool air. Birds are singing in the distance. Temperatures are rising.
Humans are spending more time outside. They’re laughing. They’re having fun. They’re chattering joyously of yet another early spring.
“But don’t they know it’s too soon, mama?” she asks, with a look of concern that should never appear on a face so innocent.
“Yes, my child," Mother replies. "Unfortunately, they do.”
About the Creator
Cathy holmes
Canadian family girl with a recently discovered love for writing. Other loves include animals and sports.
Reader insights
Outstanding
Excellent work. Looking forward to reading more!
Top insights
Easy to read and follow
Well-structured & engaging content
Heartfelt and relatable
The story invoked strong personal emotions
Excellent storytelling
Original narrative & well developed characters
On-point and relevant
Writing reflected the title & theme
Eye opening
Niche topic & fresh perspectives
Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
Masterful proofreading
Zero grammar & spelling mistakes
Expert insights and opinions
Arguments were carefully researched and presented
Keep reading
More stories from Cathy holmes and writers in Fiction and other communities.
Coming Home
I saw your kids today. You’d be amazed at how much they have grown. Max is nearly six feet tall already. Fourteen years old, and six feet tall. He’s a great basketball player too, the best in his school. He looks just like you, you know. Same smile, same eyes. He’s even got that same dimple on his chin.
By Cathy holmes3 months ago in Fiction
Spectating
I can't imagine dying like this, in a place like this; on a cold, dirty pavement with rush hour traffic screaming by and a crowd looking on while paramedics struggle to find space to move. Who could? Deep down we all think there should be a reason, a moment of clarity... or a family presence, at least. For this man, this boy, the rail thin woman lighting a cigarette in a faux fur jacket will have to do - she's been here since the start, her eyes tracking the movement of my shoulders as we fight to keep him on the right side of the line.
By S. A. Crawford6 days ago in Fiction
Comments (26)
Fabulous work!!
Superior work! I love your writing style. I'm a big fan of all the stories that came out of the snow microfiction challenge.
Beautiful story Cathy ❄️♥️❄️♥️
Wow, so well done, Cathy! The way you presented this is brilliant. I love this *story*! Such an amazing entry!
What amazes me is that in your biography you mention that you discovered your love of writing just recently; I am so grateful you are putting it all down here for us to read in awe.
Love the message in this. Really clever.
Very clever. Very moving. Well done!
You painted a very vivid thought provoking image with this one
Oh my goodness! There is so much to feel here, I don't have words to say it. Very moving and deeply spoken.
Ugh, I wish everyone got it :( This was wonderfully layered. Brilliant work, my friend.
Very lovely! Well-wrought!
This was beautiful and poignant.
Ouch, this is so elegantly done, and you're talking to me. I know. I care even. But I'm a hypocrite in how I live, often.
Apparently I'm the only one who doesn't get it. I read all the comments and still don't get it 😅 It's something to do with the seasons but if you don't mind, can you please explain it to me? 😅 Your photo is soooo beautiful!
So sad and true. Well done 😢
What a clever way to point out the change in seasons and natures views on the cycle change.
Brilliant & beautiful!!! Loved it!!!💕♥️♥️
Beautifully written! Great work.
Subtle, yet crucial. I really loved this one.
How beautiful, well done Cathy!
So beautiifully written Cathy, as always but the message really got to me x
Oh, my friend, you've outdone yourself with this one! What a marvelous read!
This is such a unique way to look at the seasons. Well done. I can only imagine what such a personification would be like where I live. Normally, we say that we only have two seasons: winter (what passes for winter here) and summer, nothing in between. Now, it’s hard to tell what’s going on. They must be getting out of bed, going back to bed, and arguing all over the place.
We had about two weeks of winter this year where the temperatures dropped to single digits (both sides of zero Fahrenheit), & we got some decent snow. But the grass never did lose it's green entirely. Right now it just looks like summer grass without watering. BTW, love the story.
I love this!! I'll never see the seasons the same again