Winter love

     The only part of his body not covered were his eyes, that looked out on a frozen, wind-blown night. His legs and feet knew the route from her house to his along the tree-lined roads that protected him like a canopy from some of the winter's blast. Driveways were filled with snow covered cars whose owners were inside, warm and safe. Every so often he did hear the crunch of tires on snow as someone braved these horrible conditions.

     His breathing was labored as the frigid wind pierced through the wool face mask he wore, frozen ice balls collecting on it like Velcro. His eyelashes were heavy with ice as he tried to make out familiar landmarks along the way but depended mostly on his memory of the route. Just another mile or so he thought to himself as his steps became more labored as he trudged through now knee-high snow. Each step forward another closer to home.

     Turning into his driveway, he saw the porch light burning brightly, the smell of wood burning in the fireplace. He entered the house using the back door the blast of warmth filling him with a soothing welcome. Standing just inside of the door he began to slowly remove the layers of clothing that saved his life that long journey home. He looked in the mirror on his way into the kitchen and saw two red circles around his eyes where the stocking mask didn’t cover, and he wondered if it would be noticed?

     He greeted his mom who touched his face and told him to have a seat as she had kept a plate warm for him. The hot meal a soothing swallow of warmth with each bite. His dad came into the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee not looking at him but speaking to him in a slow, deliberate voice of authority. “Don’t you think in weather like this you could skip walking her home from school”? "That nice warm bus could have dropped you off at the door, and you wouldn't have to risk frostbite" He didn't wait for a reply just took his coffee and left the room.

     His mom sat next to him and in a soft voice told him how his dad use to walk her home from school in all kinds of weather. Once he got so wet that he caught pneumonia and was sick for a week. Another time it was a night much like this one, and he wasn't dressed for it. He got frostbite on his fingers and almost lost them but gratefully didn't. "Its tough being in love sometimes," she told him" But one doesn't always think clearly when the heart is the only thing that makes any sense” He got up from the table and walked into the room where his dad was reading the evening paper. He put his hand on his dads’ shoulder and felt the warmth as his dad covered his still cold hand with his own, looking up at him with understanding and love.

www.facebook.com/mikeoconnor-author

www.michaeloconnorwriter.com