Microfiction
Just Cold, Wet, & White
They had been warned. Schools closed early because the roads would be icy for days. The South didn't get much wintry wizardry like this one was expected to be. The talk of the town was "snow days." All the parents who weren't picking their kids up were at the grocery stores stocking up on snacks, getting bread and milk, and thinking ahead for items like toilet paper and candles should the lights go out.
By Shirley Belk3 years ago in Fiction
The Next Day
Every day, it snowed. The trees were dead, their skeletal fingers reaching up from the ground in a mockery of reproach. Tempest watched the glittering flakes fall down, before the Yeti woman looked down at her baby boy. Held against the white fur of Tempest's arm, he looked as black as the night sky, with little flecks of silver dotting his coat like stars. So small and beautiful.
By Alison McBain3 years ago in Fiction
The White Death
The sky is dark grey, with the white snow raining down. It lands on the ground, and rises up. High to the knee, which is difficult to walk on foot. The wind blows, harden soft skin beneath thick layers of clothes. The fog clouds the surrounding, only seeing the blankness and emptiness of the element. Some are foolish to challenge what’s known as the White Death.
By Bass Man Eddie3 years ago in Fiction
Fluffy Protection
As she drove slowly through the snowfall, Willow realized that she didn’t like snow anymore. When she was a kid, she thought she would never get tired of the pretty white flakes but now, when she was an adult and had to go to work regardless, Willow didn’t like it. It made the roads slippery and since Willow wasn’t the most confident driver, that alone made her more anxious. And she didn’t even have the benefit of playing in it.
By Rebecca Patton3 years ago in Fiction
