Are You There?

There's a darkness that seems to fall every year around November. It graces its presence on the mountains and is accompanied by the snow that falls - not quite with grace and silence but not quite with violence either. It casts its shadow on the skyscrapers of Dubai and the great vines of Rome. The wind, wild and viscous howls and shrieks as it cuts against your skin and dances in the limbs of the trees. The white outside creates a silence eerily familiar to that of the loneliness you felt all those years ago. Those you once loved are nowhere to be found, lost somewhere deep in the lakes that have frozen over. You are not sure what the feeling you recognize oh so uncannily is. The only light you can see comes from the kindle you laid out weeks ago. The dog has run out and the turkey has grown cold. The mug on the counter lays empty with nothing but the ring of what it once was etched into its base. The floor creaks as you step.

One. Foot. In. Front. Of. The. Other.

The fire no longer crackles. The cheer outside has died down. The darkness seems to loom over you but somehow you go on. The mountains grimly bear their teeth, the trees swaying in a way that haunts your dreams. Is this what I am doomed to become? There is no light that guides the way. You seem to be the match that glows but you can not see further than your own hand. Drop it and the room goes up in flames. The dog's bark has quieted. The darkness creeps in. The snow is no longer solemn. The wind howls and you cover your ears to escape their steely words. But then the sun whispers. It whispers, “I am here. Can you feel me? I am here. I bring a pleasant burn and the wonderful smell of rain. I am here and I bring real warmth. I am here and I am bringing flowers. I don’t know if you can feel me. I am here.”