What an Interesting Snowflake

Shaped like a white cone: diving to penetrate the flood of its companions

upon the ground. Each white speck, a little soldier, fights an unending war to

conquer the endless patches of dirt. Each of the soldiers, with its large white

canopy above it, joins into a still ocean.

An ocean with unmoving waves: small white mounds swarming with new

battalions. Each hump, a flag for some glorious victory, beams with proud

luminescence. Each Mail Box symbolizing the plight still ahead.

Yet, in spite of this, the white army advances: Up the trees; bright uniforms

swarm over dull brown. Atop the wires and poles, each platoon collects,

waiting and watching from its vantage point.

Evil foes, hiding in their dark holes and weak edges, are ever so slowly forced

to retreat even further. Weakened, they disappear. More reinforcements

appear from the skies: ice cold soldiers, clad in lustrous attire.

Slithering and clear, these new men take hold under the branches and

between the cracks, where their white counterparts could not go. There, the

enemy is trapped, locked in translucent prisons, unable to fight back. The

fighting dwindles to a few small pockets, new soldiers come more slowly, and

all rejoice their glorious victory.

Suddenly, the peace dissolves.

A roar is heard from far off, and an immense monster, with its yellow jaws

open wide and its six legs spinning in anger, comes into sight. Whoosh, it

charges and wham it strikes, as many multitudes of white are swept away.

Again, whoosh it comes and wham it arrives—back for its revenge.

A stark black path lies in its wake. Surprised and injured, the white army

recollects on the edges of the devastation. More creatures tread over the

newly made path, these now bearing no teeth, but crushing.

One breaks off from the rest and approaches, roaring in its infinite frenzy.

Darkness and silence follows. As it draws ever closer, a creak sounds, then a

large stomp. Fear grows in the air…The monster appears, and a howl breaks

the silence as the world spins.

Slowly, I open my eyes. A red shimmer glows before me, “7:00AM,” as the

roaring sound of my father coalesces into words.