Summer Snow

12 Aug

When I woke up, I looked out the window. A tiny snowflake floated through the sky like a feather in slow motion. Then another and another and a few more. Soon the sky looked like a freshly shaken snow globe. Was it cottonwood flowers? Was it tree dandruff? Is that even a thing?

I felt a chill in my body, the snow air seeping its coolness through the thin glass of the window. No one said anything. No one was there but me and the window and the snow. Still, I heard a voice say, yes it’s snowing.

It was August. I started to cry.

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