February Frost

There was a layer of frost on the ground when I stepped outside the school, and flecks of white drifted somewhat heavily, but steadily, down through the air. I entered the silver vehicle where the other three girls sat and waited. Then, acting upon the instructor's directions, we left the premises.

I was not worried but concerned. I stared through the front windshield. There were no signs that the snow would cease, and the ground was already covered in a fine layer of snow. Slippery, I thought, it must be, and I continued to think to myself as the first girl drove around the neighborhood. With nothing of interest inside the car, I looked outwards to occupy myself.

Without realizing at first, my tensions, however slight, dispersed as my eyes wandered freely. A sheer blanket had laid itself upon the houses, the cars, the pavement. Looking forward, I saw an image of gentle solitude, a pure, unsullied path framed on both sides by black trees and colorful houses in white uniform. The sky was gray, but despite this black and white photography there was some subtle vitality to the image before me.

It was a particular image that struck me, however, and forced me to elicit a small smile that even I could not control. In a driveway, covered with a thin but even layer of snow, some being had shoveled the image, "I ♥ U," in relatively large, clear print. Realizing I had smiled, however, I immediately turned to face the other passengers in the car, but I soon came to the conclusion that no one else seemed to have noticed either me or this most lovely proclamation of love.

My soul sighed as my mind pondered aimlessly. How creative, I had thought, and wondered if there was truly anyone capable of declaring such an overused statement with such ingenuity. I imagined this being to be a man, though I admit there was no reason why it could not have been a woman, but either way I imagined this being to be a man with a wife, fiancée, or girlfriend, who would come home after a long day at work to find this public proclamation carved so forthrightly in the frost, frost so light and so sheer that it resembled more an unrolled layer of quilt batting or sheets of wedding tulle.

And I subtly sighed while a smile spread slightly across my lips and my eyes drooped dreamily in a euphoric haze. I admit that my ultimate thought was how romantic it was and I pointlessly wondered if there were truly men creative enough to do such a thing, and pretended to envy those who were already in their presence. But I then laughed at myself silently as I entertained the thought that it was not created by some veracious and artistic being at all, but rather by a child with some rampant and naïve imagination.

I looked for the house continuously, but to my dismay, it never reoccurred before me. We never passed by it again, at least from what I could see from my position, and I began to wonder if the perpetual snowfall had already obscured the transient message, curious if that woman ever did see that man's proclamation. I even doubted its existence at one point, even going so far as to wonder if perhaps it was not a product of a child's imagination, but rather my own, desperate, deprived, and alone.

We finally returned to the school. I had taken my turn between thoughts. I walked into the building. The others gone, I sat in solitude, waiting to be taken away, the faint, blunt beat of basketballs bouncing nearby the only thing that would keep me company.