Creative Story : A Short Story

How beautiful! People said when things outside started to shine with ice . But the freezing rain kept coming . Tree branches glistened like glass. The broke like glass.

Rivers froze, and oceans. Boats were caught fast in the ice in every sea. It snowed in the jungle. Marble buildings cracked… people died of the cold. And their bodies piled up where they fell, like firewood” (54).

After a space of tranquility the wind would move the snow again. Continuing this pattern of incoherence.

Red bricks, wet and blurry, dark pavements, moist and slippery. Everything was doused in this unforgiving cold attack. Middle class shops were placed everywhere, conveniently providing shelter. Dark leaves shuddered violently against the harsh winds, birds no longer poised and positioned on long branches, where they used to sing.

One day a strange thing happened, more than strange, it was almost something that has never happened in Greenland; Patrick’s house started to melt. It was during summer, which is not very hot though, but still sunny, but this has never happened before. Greenland’s normal temperature outside is -27° Celsius to 5° Celsius; it is always cold! Now the sun is getting even stronger, and it has reached the highest it has ever been in Greenland! It was during the night when Patrick’s igloo started melting, the first sign of it was the water dripping from the ceiling; it only dripped on Patrick, but he ignored it. The next night Patrick was soaking wet and his home was wearing out and barely had a ceiling anymore; the Poib family woke up in the middle of the night, and saw the dark sky and the dwarf trees surrounding

The sun was still out, but the balmy air was gradually turning cold, inclement. I could feel the temperature drop as the wind gusted in through the small crack of his window, circulating throughout the car. Behind me, more storm clouds loomed in the distance as though I was in a race to beat the darkening sky. A sudden peculiar feeling, a foreboding, swept over me.

With even more weight, these lower layers of ice began to flow and move were slowly.

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

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.

Winter is viewed as part of a fable, and Christmas time consist of lying on the beach, soaking in the radiant sun. Everyday feels as though it is vacation. Conversely, New York City experiences significant differences in temperature. During the summer, New York City’s weather mirrors that of Miami’s warm climate. However, the weather during the winter is a whole another story. The days and nights consist of freezing temperatures, which at times, can even fall into the negatives. The heavy snowfalls create a thick blanket of snow which covers the whole city,

Maya shivered. No, more like trembled. She was soaked. With cold water. Freezing cold water. And the wind blew, snow drifted down. In an almost serene way. If only Maya was in the mood to appreciate it.

The nights dragged on and the wind always seemed to rip through my parka. But I welcomed the cold, for it meant that the streets were empty and quiet, only a silhouette distinguishable against the grey sky.

3:00 P.M., the frigid rain darted down similar to ice shards and I could hear the merciless howl of the wind. Every step soaked my shoes as I walked down the flooded brick road, I felt myself beginning to drag my feet through the icy water. In spite of the weather, today is quite a memorial day, my war acquaintance back approximately 40 years ago has died peacefully in his deathbed, even the weather reflects the atmosphere flawlessly. 15 minutes till the funeral starts, I began to sprint and on every step a splash of water shot up, soaking my pants.

Starting the dark dreary walk back home, I barely sensed the harsh pounding of raindrops on my forlorn face. Thunder crackled ominously overhead, a tidal wave of mucky water covered the dusty streets. The world seemed to be crashing before my numb, tear-stricken eyes.

The storm hit like a speeding bullet. It spun the world upside down, heavy rain blurring the edges of reality. Swollen clouds darkened the sky, drenching the earth with freezing water.