Winter Storm

Life is 'thick' sometimes, suffocating even. Deep breaths, and shudders are often and temporary in relief. I am inspired and provoked and moved by so much and each revelation requires the process of adjusting. It seems this time of year brings adjustments in to sharp focus. Perhaps a better word is decisions. Yes, decisions. But enough about me, I have a story to tell.

She sat on her front porch sipping hot coffee, smoking a Newport and staring off to the snow covered mountains and valleys before her. Her mind wandered no place in particular. It was cold and her bulky sweatshirt, jeans and work boots offered little warmth. She didn't care. Her long blond wavy hair blew softly around her face and shoulders and back as the now snow filled wind surrounded her. She felt oddly protected by the flurry of snow, wind and cold. She was almost invisible. Her mind settled, once again, on him. He wasn't an educated man. He knew everything about nature and farming and animals. She had spent many hours learning from him about such things and she loved him, and he loved her.

She closed her eyes. The floor of the basement was tiled in large white and black squares. He had a work shop off to one side, separated by old style wooden saloon doors. She often spent time in that workshop while he puttered and showed her how to make bird houses and fix whatever needed fixing. She loved her special time with him. She didn't understand why he was holding her so close and for so long. Even at 8 years old she knew the hug had been over for a while. He told her he loved her as he slid his hand in to her jeans and underpants. She pulled back some and he encouraged her to relax, and she did. He put her hand on him, on his manliness and helped her to move it just right. She was scared and confused. He calmed her with words of love and of this being their special time and their secret'. She surrendered. For years.

The snow filled wind continued to swirl her hair and toss her thoughts into the glory of Winter. Her cold hands gripped her coffee mug tightly, only letting go to light up another Newport. She inhaled deeply, letting the cool sensations inside her lungs and the cold forces that surrounded her continued to protect her from herself, her thoughts and memories. He faded in a swirl of snow and tossed hair and once again the view of the mountains and valleys emerged for her to see. She placed him deep in the woods, at the base of a mountain, covered him with branches and rocks in the hopes that she would never see him again. At least until the next cup of coffee, out on her deck, while smoking a Newport in a storm.