Making Snow Angels, Pt. 1

in fiction •  2 months ago  (edited)

I'm laying here silently and still as a field of white surrounds me. As weightless as I am right now, it feels more like the sea than it does a field. The temperature is well below freezing as I can easily tell by the increasing numbness in my toes and fingertips. As soft flakes scatter from a dark sky, they begin to accumulate evenly on my bundled up body. I wipe away the very thin layer covering my eyelids.

With my eyes still closed, I begin to have serious thoughts as images race through my head in no particular order. A cluttered recollection of my past. It's as if I took the inch-wide reel of film that's received with a pack of newly developed photos and cut them out individually, mixed them up, and randomly selected each one until I've reached the end of the pile. Except these snippets are more than mere stills and extras. They are very real and all of them highly significant. Several clips of my mistakes, achievements, family, friends, and enemies. Instances of selfishness, sadness, and happiness from throughout my lifetime. While in third person view, I start to question what I hold near.

And then I'm back. Dammit. I'm thinking too much again. I always seem to panic at the strangest times. With outstretched arms, I'm simply laying here in the snow making snow angels after an exhausting, long day at work. Believe it or not, I've never made snow angels before. Granted, the weather is too excruciatingly cold to feel my movements, but I'm actually enjoying myself despite my bouncing thoughts. I've been here for a long time, come to think of it. I must have made a hundred snow angels by now! I can only imagine how deep the imprints above my shoulders and the areas surrounding my torso and legs are.

I don't even care who's watching me. I'm more relaxed than ever and for once in a long time, I'm letting go of regret, self-hatred, and all of the negatives that always bring me down. At this very moment, I am at peace.

Then, there's a slight flash. I open my eyes as if I'm just bogging out of a lengthy nap. Out of fuzzy peripherals, I can see the glare of two headlights at least 75 feet away.

"Well, that was relaxing. I should probably get back to my car now," I slowly think to myself.

There's one other thing I notice before I sit upright and push myself off the ground and begin walking to my 2001 Nissan Maxima. Still lying in the same position, I slowly glance out of the corner of each eye. I realize the only imprint in the snow is the one outlining my body. I don't see any wings. Immediately, sporadic shocks of pain rattle my cage of a body and, without warning, everything turns to black. The kind of black that's so dark you forget you were ever living.

I stayed in the blackness for 5 days. When I awoke, I found myself in an extremely well-lit room. Attached to odd machines and surrounded by several people wearing white and soft blue, I was told I'm lucky to be alive. I never made a snow angel, but I may have met one.

© This writing was created by and remains property of the username, lionsmane. It is to be claimed as an original piece only on whaleshares and steemit under this username. Creation date: March, 2019

Disclaimer: I do NOT own the rights to the photos used within and will gladly take any photo down at the request of the owners/creators


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