The Sheet of Winter

Winter draped over the town like a sheet of parchment.

That was how it usually looked from my large living room window.

Snow covered everything in a thin-ish layer of pristine white, from rooftops to lawns to my red car in my driveway.

Holding my hot cup of coffee, I watched the fat flakes gently float down to their final resting places.

Thank God I worked from home.

The wind was barely blowing, and only a few vehicles were scattered on the street, so the white fluff was mostly undisturbed.

A part of me itched to throw on my winter clothes, jump into the snow, and make snow angels as I did as a child.

But I knew my elderly neighbor across the street eyed all of us like she was a hawk, and we were her prey, then spread rumors like wildfire.

More than one person had moved because of her. And I didn’t blame them, although one of them had become my friend, so I missed having her live next door to me.

But we made it a point to spend time together at least once a week. Probably not this week, though.

So, I remained inside, curious if the snow would stop falling anytime soon.

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