ice
I slipped on the ice and hit my head. I was trying to get my keys out of my pocket and I found out my keys were not in my pocket and I was frustrated. I took a swift step down the stairs and I fell. When I fell, I hit my head in the stairs, as I fell backwards. I had just walked for and hour and a half from my car which had stalled. It's another New England winter, colder than my girlfriend when I drink too much, and, of course, tonight my car had to stall. Its been acting up lately, and I know I should probably just get a new one… but it was the first car I ever bought, and to be quite honest, I’m a little attached to it. It’s a love/hate relationship though, because I cursed that car the whole walk home. The closer I got to home, however, the better I felt. I’d just let myself in, settle down for a while, take a hot shower, wait for my girlfriend to get home with the other car. We could drive back to my car together; try to get her started, back on the road. I almost convinced myself things were actually just fine. And now this. I left my fucking keys in the cup holder in the center console of my car. I’m always back and forth about putting the keys there. In the summer, it’s a good idea, because I may or may not be wearing a coat. But in winter, when I always have a coat on when outside, I might as well keep them in my coat pocket. This logic, of course, escapes me when I am getting into my car in the morning, as do most things, other than the spiteful feelings associated with traveling to another day of work and the brilliance of coffee.
But they aren’t there, and in just that moment, I was so fired up I was going to turn right around, march my way back to the car and get them. Fate, it seems, had other plans for me. I shovel and scrape my driveway and steps with a passion. A flake of snow fears my shovel and me come wintertime. But the weather has been on and off lately, sometimes rising above freezing, and then dipping back below. Its melts the snow and then freezes it… causing ice. I salt the walkways in the morning, but come evening, the ice is back to haunt me. And today, it got me. That flustered turn; I might have just taken a little steam off and been fine. But no, Mr. Passion that I am, bam, here I am flat on my ass with a throbbing head.
I actually think I might have lost consciousness for a second or two. But I’m back from that. I’m lying here, and strangely, if I don’t move, it’s a little bit warmer. If I don’t move, my head doesn’t hurt so badly. So fuck it, I’m not moving. I’m just going to lye here for a while. And just when it’s decided I look up and see something amazing. Surely, the side of my house has been like this all winter. But not before today did I really notice it. It’s completely covered in a thick layer of ice. I would assume all the run-off from the snow that has melted on the roof freezes as it run down the side of the house. Right now, lying here on the ground, banged up, locked out and miles from a solution, its just beautiful.
But what grabs me isn’t necessarily the beauty of it, but rather the fatefulness of it. All of these drops of water started as snowflakes high up in the sky. Their destiny was always to reach the ground. First they landed on the roof, which might as well been the ground, were it not for some warm days, melting them, turning them into water and sending them down the side of the house, towards my walkway, true ground. But fate had something else in mind. Fate had stopped their journey. Not stopped it, but rather, paused it. Painted it in. Forget all clocks and calendars, at least in the life of these snowflakes. There was something incredibly meaningful about that to me… lying there on the ground that day.
Two weeks from now, I was lying in bed on a spring-like morning. Every so often, I would hear a crashing sound outside of my window. It was the sun, freeing the snowflakes from this stoppage of time to meet their destiny. Sure, the order got screwed up. Some that thought they would hit first had to wait for other groups of flakes to be released by the warmth. But, eventually, they all fell.
It’s going to be a good day though. The bump on my head from when I fell, from when, for a moment, I lied there and let time stop for me, had already gone away. Sure, maybe the order gets screwed up, but, with a little bit of patience and warmth, things are going to keep happening. The coffee is even more brilliant on that morning.
But they aren’t there, and in just that moment, I was so fired up I was going to turn right around, march my way back to the car and get them. Fate, it seems, had other plans for me. I shovel and scrape my driveway and steps with a passion. A flake of snow fears my shovel and me come wintertime. But the weather has been on and off lately, sometimes rising above freezing, and then dipping back below. Its melts the snow and then freezes it… causing ice. I salt the walkways in the morning, but come evening, the ice is back to haunt me. And today, it got me. That flustered turn; I might have just taken a little steam off and been fine. But no, Mr. Passion that I am, bam, here I am flat on my ass with a throbbing head.
I actually think I might have lost consciousness for a second or two. But I’m back from that. I’m lying here, and strangely, if I don’t move, it’s a little bit warmer. If I don’t move, my head doesn’t hurt so badly. So fuck it, I’m not moving. I’m just going to lye here for a while. And just when it’s decided I look up and see something amazing. Surely, the side of my house has been like this all winter. But not before today did I really notice it. It’s completely covered in a thick layer of ice. I would assume all the run-off from the snow that has melted on the roof freezes as it run down the side of the house. Right now, lying here on the ground, banged up, locked out and miles from a solution, its just beautiful.
But what grabs me isn’t necessarily the beauty of it, but rather the fatefulness of it. All of these drops of water started as snowflakes high up in the sky. Their destiny was always to reach the ground. First they landed on the roof, which might as well been the ground, were it not for some warm days, melting them, turning them into water and sending them down the side of the house, towards my walkway, true ground. But fate had something else in mind. Fate had stopped their journey. Not stopped it, but rather, paused it. Painted it in. Forget all clocks and calendars, at least in the life of these snowflakes. There was something incredibly meaningful about that to me… lying there on the ground that day.
Two weeks from now, I was lying in bed on a spring-like morning. Every so often, I would hear a crashing sound outside of my window. It was the sun, freeing the snowflakes from this stoppage of time to meet their destiny. Sure, the order got screwed up. Some that thought they would hit first had to wait for other groups of flakes to be released by the warmth. But, eventually, they all fell.
It’s going to be a good day though. The bump on my head from when I fell, from when, for a moment, I lied there and let time stop for me, had already gone away. Sure, maybe the order gets screwed up, but, with a little bit of patience and warmth, things are going to keep happening. The coffee is even more brilliant on that morning.