Baby Blue Bundle
t patiI tried to wait patiently in Oma’s red Ford, but I was starting to get restless. Surely the drive couldn’t be much longer. Nervousness prickled again when I saw the hospital break through the trees.
Oma quietly drove the car down the slushy street. Muddy boulders of hard-packed snow lined the streets and mostly unoccupied parking lots. Thick, fluffy snowflakes whipped past under a cloudy sky the color of chilled steel. Frost crept up the pine trees along the roads, shining slightly in the dim light. The freezing waters of Lake Huron were dotted with huge chunks of ice that bobbed in the waves.
Oma found a parking spot relatively quickly. She turned off the car, and we climbed out. The wind playfully blew snow in our faces as we began to walk to the hospital. In no time, I
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I recognized it as his handwriting. I quickly read it and smiled. My gaze shifted to the little, baby blue bundle. Mom tilted it so I could see my newborn brother. He had a tiny face with tightly closed, and a small fist clutched the side of his blanket. I tried to picture next Christmas, with my new baby brother. Two scenarios came to me; 1- it was a picture-perfect Christmas with the baby waiting patiently and quietly for his turn to open presents. 2-He was ripping out my hair, destroying the tree, and breaking Dad’s new wristwatch. Then we’d have to buy handcuffs or something, and we would have to do everything in the guest bedroom. I was pretty sure that it wouldn’t be either of those, but somewhere in between.
I cleared my throat, a little bit too loudly, but at this point I didn’t honestly care. At this point, I didn’t care how Christmas turned out. Oma looked at me curiously, and Dad turned the video tape on. Looking at the baby’s face- my brother’s face, I spoke loud and clear.
“Today,” I said, enunciating every single syllable, “I wish to announce the blessed arrival of Austin James
On a cold December morning snow blanketed the ground while a frozen mist masked the trees. Only the very tops could be seen. I stepped outside and inhaled the clean, crisp Texas air. Still half asleep, I walked to the truck feeling the soft powder compact beneath my boots and the snowflakes melt as they hit my skin. It was the time of year that I had been longing for.
Snowflakes were slowly falling down in dancing moves, and beeping of cars and noise of the city were in the air. All dull-grey roads were covered with thin snow layer; the city appeared in white shades and shiny when the sun rays got out of dense clouds. After gazing
I set my doll down gently on the floor, for I don’t want to hurt her, and I ran over to my sister who was peering out the frost-covered window. I rubbed my sleeve over the pains to try to get a better look at the falling snow. I saw the beautiful flakes falling softly through the sky.
I lay on the side of the sleepy suburban street, at the corner of the intersection where the streetlight hung over me like a question mark. A light snow fell in random flurries, some flakes collecting on the tip of my nose, and then melting down my cheeks in cold tears. The blood pooling around my head started to harden and freeze my hair to the slick asphalt road.
The sky rumbles with thunder as the charcoal clouds roll over the excessively dark rough watered lake. The clouds are so thick and dark that only a few flickers of light, from the moon, shine through. The depth of the lake appears to have no end, as if anything would get lost if caught in its’ rough currents. Thick and high grass cover the water’s edge. The air becomes thick and icy, making it hard for anyone to breathe. It is the kind of icy feeling that fills the whole entire body, consuming every inch of life within. The kind that send chills down spines. There is the sound of pinging in the distance.
The first snowfall of the year had finally arrived one late November night, blanketing the small cabin and surrounding forest with fresh, powdery snow. The wind howled through the leafless trees, often relieving the weighed down branches of their snowy burden. The smooth and unblemished snow coated everything, leaving the road to the cabin indistinguishable from the surrounding terrain.
I breathed warm air and rub my hands together against the cold. I blink from the frigid January weather as gusts of wind blow through my glasses, whipping my hair against my eyes. I rubbed them together, and the red brick buildings and patches of snow blurred together for an instant. A huffing wind rises up, stirring the flaps of our shirts, and I absentmindedly look up, looking for the source of the wind. The incandescent light of the lamppost shines a shadow behind us, reflecting against the glassy surface of the frozen ground. Jack leans in close to me, also gasping from the gusts.
As you are walking down the sidewalk in Cleveland you feel something cold hit your left ear. You look over and realize that it was only one of the many snowflakes that have begun falling from the inky blue sky. The cold chill causes you to shudder as you continue on your path down the slushy street. As cars pass, the grey mixture splashes onto your shoes. Surveying the damage the slush has done to your new sneakers, you accidentally wander off the well lit sidewalk and into a dark alleyway.
The snow was sticking to the window beside me, each flurry as individual and distinctive as a human fingerprint. I focused on the gloomy skies rather than the hospital towering intimidatingly before me. I closed my eyes as my sister stepped out of the car, quietly apologizing to me as she ventured deep into the snowfall. I knew at that moment that I needed to shed my childish ways and step into my new adult skin.
Our stomachs full and chains in hand, we began striding towards our car. Shivering from the cold, Zoya could barely keep up. Thanks to a kind and caring couple, we didn’t have to bear the cold for long. We were welcomed into the warmth of their car and they drove us to get snow shovels. Back down the mountain we rode with great anticipation to free our car from its icy prison. After 15 grueling hours of snow, the sun finally began to melt the ice. Digging the tires from their graves, the tires were finally released from Mother Nature’s shackles. Our angels reminded us about the goodness in the
The snow had been falling steadily since noon and it didn’t look like it was going to stop anytime soon. I gazed out the window, looking at my backyard. The beautiful snow had already been messed up by the neighborhood kids, yet it was still as white as an angel’s wings. I smiled to myself, turning away so I could check if I had everything. A car horn honked, drawing my attention to the front door. I let out a sigh, grabbing my house key as I walked outside. I waved at my grandma, locked the door, then quickly hurried to the car with my two bags. I opened the car door, Grandma greeting me with a cheeky smile.
It was a cold, blustery day, the snow whipped over the highway. The wind howled like a wolf pack. Ice covered the highway, making it as slick as a wet bar of soap. Our tires slid and the yellow light came on.
I walked out to my deep red chevy S10 and situated myself into the driver’s seat. I put my key in the ignition, turned the engine over, and pulled out of my driveway. The roads where I lived were fairly iced over, so I drove slower than usual. The ice eventually became less and less as I came into town. I took the several lefts it took my to get to Sami’s house before the final right that put my right in her driveway. I texted her and we were off without delay.
“ I heard Tahoe just got four inches of fresh snow!” my friend David said excitedly as we passed Donner lake on the freeway. David and I were on our way to visit an abandoned ski resort that we only heard people talk about. The dark clouds outside were looming over our heads as the sun began to set. Icy snow began to flutter down, covering the narrow trail we have been following for last couple of hours. Suddenly our jeep halts at a stand still and I see the distress on David’s face. The warmth of the car is quickly escaping as we open to the door and jump into the dark forest outside.
I stand on the edge of a dark brown wooden dock.I can sense that the tips of my black vans are hanging over the edge. I feel my auburn hair blow wildly in the wind .My mind is completely blank. This is how I have started every morning since I could remember. It helps me collect my thoughts and prepare for the day ahead. When you live in a town as perfect as grayville you need these moments where you are free.