Upon the Snow

[viceversa]

Once upon a time, in a city that was tall, so tall it seemed
to reach up and meet the sky as if to kiss the heavens, a
magic occurred on the eve before Christmas.

Snow abounded, falling thick and heavy on the
park, bright white like a papal robe, shrouding the trees
in whimsy and the city's people in wonder.

They stuck out their tongues and tasted it, as children
do, the air around them crisp and electric, breathing
almost, alive.

That moment, as everyone stopped to admire the
snow, be it through their windows or as they slid down the
street, time halted somehow.

The grievances of the world ceased to exist.
Empty, aching hearts were full and fat.
Joy danced collective, in and out of every person.
Christmas itself became of non-denomination.
It wasn't called Christmas anymore.
It was called "The day that everything was perfect."

A day that everyone could have, that celebrated all
that is good in the world, and right and true.

Knowing that they had this day forever after, the
people went about their business, and they were happy.

THE END

By Sophie Dahl