my sweet December, a memory
The night of December's first big snow, I was watching television in her living room. She came downstairs in three pairs of pants, two hats, two coats, thick gloves and galoshes.
"Come on," she said. "We're going for a walk."
"Fuck that," I said. "It's cold, and I'm going to sit here and get drunk instead."
"Come on," she said, and blinked. That was all it took.
I put on what I could from the motley collection of articles of clothing I'd accrued at her house. We exitted into the mighty tundra. That was what she kept calling it: the Mighty Tundra.
"You're no match for the Mighty Tundra!" she'd say, and fling snow at me. And I'd laugh.
We waded through about two feet of snow, her all prancing in her tons of snow gear and me hunched over behind her, dragging myself and my trenchcoat through the drifts. The Flint Cultural Center was covered, and all the little statues and things looked so different under all that white. We walked to the places where the lights wore through the snow and looked at how pretty it was. Then we went up to the top of the Mott parking garage and made a tiny snowman on the rail.
Then we just sat for a moment, and watched the snow fall on the city. The lights refracted on it, all purple and orange, and as we sat there I thought "I could do this forever."
I loved her.
the end.
"Come on," she said. "We're going for a walk."
"Fuck that," I said. "It's cold, and I'm going to sit here and get drunk instead."
"Come on," she said, and blinked. That was all it took.
I put on what I could from the motley collection of articles of clothing I'd accrued at her house. We exitted into the mighty tundra. That was what she kept calling it: the Mighty Tundra.
"You're no match for the Mighty Tundra!" she'd say, and fling snow at me. And I'd laugh.
We waded through about two feet of snow, her all prancing in her tons of snow gear and me hunched over behind her, dragging myself and my trenchcoat through the drifts. The Flint Cultural Center was covered, and all the little statues and things looked so different under all that white. We walked to the places where the lights wore through the snow and looked at how pretty it was. Then we went up to the top of the Mott parking garage and made a tiny snowman on the rail.
Then we just sat for a moment, and watched the snow fall on the city. The lights refracted on it, all purple and orange, and as we sat there I thought "I could do this forever."
I loved her.
the end.