Adrift

            Amy passed the mail carrier as she exited her apartment building. He nodded a quick good morning to her and warned her about the cold weather outside. He was bundled and wrapped in several layers of scarves, snow-pants and jackets. Amy had her head wrapped in a woolen cap, a scarf and her normal wool winter coat. She thanked him for the weather update and marveled at the strangeness of being warned about the cold weather of which she was clearly prepared for. She pulled open the heavy apartment exterior door and stepped out into the winter.

            The sidewalks had yet to be shoveled and Amy could see the various foot prints of the other early rising workers bees that inhabited her neighborhood. She saw the long unbroken wheel tracks of the mail carrier’s cart and the tiny shoe prints of the children that lived across the street. Amy trudged forward toward the train station several blocks away, cursing her cheap walking to work shoes. She had meant to buy some new winter boots but just hadn’t had the time. Or at least, just didn’t really feel like going shopping.

             She shuffled along the sidewalk as cars slowly made their way over still snowy streets. There was a strange muffled sound of snow being mashed under the car tires as they drove by. It was a curious winter deafness. The world had been silenced by the snowy blanket covering everything. Amy sniffled and couldn’t believe that her nose had started to run already. It was terribly cold, the mail carrier was right. She looked up away from her carefully measured snowbound steps and up toward the train station. The sun had yet to rise and small particles of snow were still swirling in the air, backlit by the bright orange-ish halogen street lights.

             The snow looked like flecks of gold, or glitter, twisting in the air. The snow twirled and rolled around the streetlights like a swarm of angry bees. It would slow and speed up depending on the strength of the bitter wind. Amy shrugged her shoulders up against the cold and adjusted her work bag. She continued to press forward as her mind started to remember this walk on warm summer mornings and how much she took those lovely walks for granted. Now she just wanted to get to the train station and get the whole day over with.

            A snow plow truck roared by as Amy waited at the cross walk. It’s heavy plow scraping loudly along the asphalt street, shooting sparks up as it hit the imperfections in the road. Amy stepped back out of fear. She didn’t want to get his by the sparks or sprayed with the snow. The sparks made her think of the snow falling around the street lights. They were so similar this morning. The snow and sparks were golden flashes that disappeared as quickly as they appeared.

             The cross walk signal changed and Amy started her walk across the street. The cold wind sharpened and Amy could smell the freeze in the air through her scarf. It was electric smelling and harsh. She stepped up to the curb and turned toward the train station.  She looked up again at the snow dancing around the lights illuminating the train station staircase and she felt she was akin to the snow. She felt that she too was just another flashing snowflake drifting around some giant light. She wondered if she sparkled. She wondered about her place in the world.