Wooden bench along the walkway in an early morning of spring


She was rushing through the door going outside while putting on her toque and gloves. She was running late on the 7:25 am bus. She was walking fast not considering the slippery ground, only aiming to reach the bus stop as soon as possible. It was only 2 meters away when the bus passed in front of her.

“Darn!” she muttered.

She gloomingly slows her pace while staring from afar, hoping for the next bus to come sooner. After reaching the bus stop and standing still for a few minutes, she noticed that the ground was covered with snow. She looked up and into the ground. The snowflakes are big but falling gently into the ground. She removed her gloves and tried to catch the snow as it fell.

“It is not that cold,” she thought.

She lowered herself and touched a pile of snow beside the walkway.

It feels soft. It is cold but soft.

She then grabbed a handful, squished it and threw away. She grabbed another handful, squished it again, but this time, she gently loosen it while releasing it from her hand.

“Ahh, that’s nice,” She thought calmly.

Then a realization came in – she’s been living with snow for almost 3 years but hasn’t touched it with her bare hands. 

“Maybe because I am busy complaining,” her mind mumbled with regrets.

The bus came and as she stepped inside, she left the rest behind.

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