After the Snowstorm, Making a Surprise Visit to a Friend


The storm had passed overnight, leaving behind a brutal, dazzling silence. The sky was an unending slab of gray, and the wind, though quieter now, still scraped across the frozen landscape like dull razors. Liam squinted through the windshield as he parked on the narrow shoulder of a country road, the snow looking like puffy big waves surrounding his car. His friend Caleb's house—half a mile from anything paved—wasn't visible from here, hidden down a trail whose path was slightly obscured. Chuckling to himself, Liam imagined Caleb's shouts of joy when he showed up unannounced.


As Liam exited his car, he zipped his coat, tugged on a beanie, and grinned. The car's heater had been blasting for the past 30 minutes, cocooning him with heat. The wind couldn't touch him for real, not in these modern times. It was just a walk. Fifteen minutes, tops.


The trail was uneven, packed where deer had crossed, loose where the snow had drifted. Liam's boots crunched and slid as he descended into the trees. The wind screamed through the bare branches above. He leaned forward, pulling his scarf tighter. In his right hand, he gripped his car keys, which he had forgotten to put in his pant pocket. 


Then it happened. His right boot hit a patch of pure ice hidden beneath snow and he shot forward. He twisted, off balance, arms flailing, and for one strange second he was airborne—his hip slamming to the ground with a sharp crunch. As he tried to break his fall with his right hand, his car keys flew out of his hand arcing toward a dense snow drift twenty feet off the path.


The pain in his hip was sharp, but not unbearable. What worried him more was the sudden bite in the air. His coat had unzipped during the fall, and already he was shivering harder than before. The safety of the warm car -- just 50 feet behind him -- might as well have been 50 miles behind him -- if he could not retrieve his car keys.


He stumbled toward the snowbank, heart beating faster. His fingers were already stiff as he pulled off one glove and reached into the drift. Nothing. He reached again, deeper this time, the cold biting into his skin like broken glass. He told himself this was nothing. Just dig a little more. Keys didn't go far.


But the snow was dense. It collapsed and swallowed whatever hole he made. He pulled his arm back, now soaked up to the elbow. The cold was no longer sharp -- it was dull, like a weight pulling him down.


He tried to call out. "Caleb!" The wind stole his words a few feet from his lips. His friend's house was just a football field away, but the path was now invisible. Even if he started walking, would he make it?


He returned to the snowbank, kneeling now. Just find the keys. Get warm. His mind became sluggish.


His hand slipped again into the drift, slower now. His breath came in short bursts.


"I'll just… rest. For a minute."


He curled next to the mound, snow pushing against his side. The wind howled, but he didn't hear it anymore. His eyelids fluttered. Sleep wasn't scary—it was soft, like falling backward into a thick comforter. Just a nap. Caleb would find him. Soon.


The trees around him leaned over with the wind. The keys lay buried inches from his outstretched hand, invisible beneath a crust of ice. Behind him, his car, no longer could give the spark of life with its heater. His car, once the source of life-saving heat, sat there as cold as a huge boulder. Why didn't his car care about him any more? Could any car be more uncaring than this?


(This story is donated to the public domain.)


http://tinyurl.com/storiesofkindnessandcourage





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Phil Shapiro, pshapiro@his.com
https://pairsmathgame.com
https://philshapirochatgptexplorations.blogspot.com/
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He/Him/His

"Wisdom begins with wonder." - Socrates
"Learning happens thru gentleness."
"We must reinvent a future free of blinders so that we can choose from real options."  David Suzuki

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