Page 11 of When the Snowman Whispered
Everything is fine.
Earlier, I’d made the mistake of getting on Facebook to see what my family and friends were doing for the holidays. It wasn’t my imagined pick me up. I ended up getting into several online arguments.
It was so unlike me, commenting on posts that infuriated me as if I were somesocial media Yodathere to warn the world about the dark force. But this year wasn’t a twisted Star Wars plotline. And neither of the political parties represented the Jedi or the Sith. They were just greedy bastards and warmongers disguised as peacekeepers and guardians.
Either way, I shouldn’t have been fighting online like a crazy person.
Yoda, you are not. An asshole, you have been. Wasted hours of the day on Facebook, you have.
We were the generation of chaos.
This world was fucking crumbling. And instead of us uniting together to build a space ship and blast off to the starry unknown, we picked up the shattered pieces of earth and stuck them up each other’s asses.
Letting the negative news get to me, I am. Need to fast from social media, I should.
Remy, my snowman stood next to me, glittering like glass. I’d sat by the musical memorial guitar first, but it was uncomfortable over there. For some reason, the wind blew colder next to the dead artists’ faces. It wasn’t warm. Not like the space around my snowman. In the moonlight, he radiated a haunting glow. The ice breathed around him.
I did my thing when I made you.
A fire blazed in front of us. Flames crackled in the wind.
I’d slung a couple of bad romance novels into the pit. I loved books, but the bad ones had to be turned into ashes, never to darken my doorway again. It had been a rough year in the bookstores I’d ordered from. Lots of fluff and clichés between the pages and nothing grabbing at my heart and twisting me forward. I’d burned around ten books tonight, hoping the ashes would serve more purpose to the world.
Thankfully, my icy lover showed no signs of melting.
Peace. It’s peaceful out here.
Pouring a glass of wine, I kept the phone’s volume on high while I placed it next to me and sat on a blanket on the ground. I figured the girls might call and I didn’t want to miss it.
This is good. I needed a break and being out here is relaxing.
Wind whipped through the trees. The fire’s flames snapped against smoke mingling with the night fog. All around me animals crunched along a landscape of snowy mountains, leaving tiny footprints everywhere they crept.
The branches splintered within the fire. I breathed in fresh air and burning logs, sinking into relaxation.
It takes a different type of person to live out here.
Although people had always settled in the Rocky Mountains, the Sierra Nevada, and even the Coastal Mountains. Those settlers had been considered rebels. They’d left modern houses and streets for primitive dwellings and winters that gnawed at the skin and froze up the bones.
Mountain living was a rough life, but still people came in all colors and from various backgrounds and class levels. Cowboys worked alongside millionaires. Newly freed slaves helped build the town with runaways. Women did the same tasks as men. With winters that lasted more than nine months, there was no time to hate and fight.
People united on survival.
Mom told me that the skiing industry rose after World War II. Rich people started fleeing crowded cities and taking a few months out in the mountains to breath in the calming peace that one could only get with barely touched nature. The mountains and open space were intoxicating.
And modern heating and computer technology made this life bearable.
Out here, you can escape from the world.
I drank in the sculpture as it shimmered in the moonlight.
For whatever reason, I liked being outside with Remy. Not even Netflix could lure me away. There was peace within the coldness of nature. Few things came out to bite—not bugs and insects, nor bears or wolves.
It was too cold to bother humans tonight.
Anytime I was outside in the evening, I felt safe. My house was a half a mile out from the main road. No one could sneak up on me without my knowing it.
This isn’t so bad with the girls not being here. Maybe. . .I needed time to myself.
