Snows: A Narrative Fiction

Reflections of the foliage are visible in the lake on my left, and behind that chairlifts can be seen waiting for the first snow to fall to begin their busy work of the winter. Small houses begin to appear, as well as family-owned ski shops, quaint motels, and Munroe’s Family Restaurant as I travel further down the road. Lining the sides of the road are hundreds of evergreens and maple trees, leading me towards the mountains in the distance. The mountains are topped with white fluffy clouds, that in a few months will be showering the pinnacles with

In a thousand spots the traces of the winter avalanche may be perceived, where trees lie broken and strewed on the ground; some entirely destroyed, others bent, leaning upon the rocks of the mountain or transversely upon other trees. The path, as you ascend higher, is intersected by ravines of the

The storm had passed. Norval Gilmer careened the air cab to skim along the craggy mountain range past the Terra borough’s greenhouses in the south. Since he studied geology at Gnaritus University, he enthusiastically drew Surina’s attention to the unusual topography in the picturesque hinterland on the way to Algonquin Beach. Through the sunroof of the air cab, she glimpsed the congregation of the three suns, Spes’ rings, Fiducia, and Clementia in the endless turquoise sky. Suddenly, as they moved further south, the jaw-dropping view of the rainbow mountain materialized with its dazzling stripes of gold, black, green, orange, red, blue, and purple. Moreover, a soft alpenglow shrouded the snowy peaks.

As I sat on top of Schaefer's Pass in the pouring rain the only thing going through my mind was “Oh God, I’m going to die!”. The day had started off really well. With only two more days left on our trek I was gleefully thinking about re-entering civilization. The storm arrived with little to no warning as reached the top. Dark clouds quickly approached and a downpour of rain hit our group. Hiding underneath some trees we patiently waited for the storm to pass. Little did we know that this was no normal rain shower. When the first bolt of lightning hit the mountain it sounded like a bomb had gone off. The ground shook and I was blinded by a flash of blue. For the next hour we were pounded with torrential rain and hail and shook by the constant strikes of lightening. “What have I gotten myself into”, I thought as I sat shivering in my soaking wet clothes.

Zussman tied his boat off and started to climb the cliffs. He knew that no one had lived to tell what was behind the cloud, but still he climbed. When Zussman got to the top of the mountain, all he saw was nothing but the snowy land. Zussman said “He finds the supernatural climate occur on the mountain, breathtaking, but also strange. As he explores the little mountain, he came across with no any animals or person but some plants like flowers. After spending hours exploring and finding any clues to the people who disappear, he eventually gave up and climbed down to his boat. As Zussman untied his boat, he heard a scream at the top of the mountain. He thought to himself, “That’s impossible. I searched the bloody area!”. He quickly got off the

His claws dug deep into the gelid ground, using them like icepicks to prop himself forward. He dragged himself toward the trees, covered in snow, after which he pulled his face up to get a look at what was in front of him: at least a dozen tree were huddled together, and they Snow blew in his face as he moved forward, the point to where his eyes were too watery to distinguish anything that was in his sight. Because he knew the trees were right there, he mustered enough strength to stand up and lunge himself forward and, to save himself from face planting into the snow, plunged down his hands. His bag slipped forward on the back of his head and held him down. He saw the trees’ trucks, and he crawled his way to them.

I stared out of the empty window, remembering my childhood and how happy I would be when snow would come. Now snow means winter and winter never fails to remind me of you. I remember the way you would laugh at every joke I would tell and how wide your smile would become when you heard about something you love or saw something beautiful. I blinked and was wide eyed into the snow. It was bright and seemed so beautiful, but cold to the touch. Kind of like a person.

He ran to his sisters room and burst threw the door. He yelled " come on, we gotta get going or else we'll be late!" His sister got out of the bed real slow and said in a sleepy voice "do we have to?" "Yes we have to." Matt replied. They walked down the hall to get their snow gear. After they got their gear on they left to go to the park. When they got to the park they notice footsteps. They followed the footstep to the hill. When they saw where the tracks ended they knew someone was up there. They had made some decent snow balls and carried two in each hand. Once they got to the top they herd someone grabbing and compacting snow. They quickly and silently made a plan. The plan was the Matt would go up and around the left flank and his sister would go around the right flank so they had nowhere to

“ALL ABOARD!” the conductor yells out over the intercom, as we are finding our seats on the Pike’s Peak Cog Railway. The kids and I were ready to see the top of Pike’s Peak. The train takes off slowly and begins to pick up speed as we make our way up the mountain. Our ears begin to pop the higher in elevation we reach, my son grasps my hand and squeezes as hard as he can, his hand is sweating and I can almost feel his heart beating through my hand. Mesmerized, we stare out the window at the tall cliffs, mountain ledges, rock formations shifted by nature, little waterfalls throughout the mountain, and then, there it was; the one thing we all wanted to see, “SNOW!” My son shouts out. About 10,000 ft. in elevation, still making our way to the top, the snow laid out over the mountain sides like a white cotton blanket. I have never seen something so beautiful in my 28 years. Pine trees with snow covered branches, dark brown rocks poking through the snow, if you look closely you can see animal tracks left behind in the snow. Finally, an hour and fifteen minutes later, we have reached our destination. 14, 115 ft. in elevation, we are at the top of Pike’s Peak.

Entering the area I first noticed the mountains, covered in rugs of green, gold, ember red, and burning orange trees. The mountains were the spines of the land, holding together the whole landscape. Off to a distance shining white pyramids could be seen. The tops of the mountains soared up to the sky and to the heavens as to kiss the stars with the cold peaks. I was just a quiet observer of there glorious range. They stood ghost-like, and the only thing bigger then these slumbering giants was my gaze when taking them in.

I saw the lightning bolts shooting toward me, but stood my ground. The twenty-four toddlers whizzed by, making pitter-patter noises as they ran laps around the colorful plastic volleyball courts. Laughing, I watched as they raced to see who would reach me first.

This poem reminded me of the stories that my parents tell me of their experiences of snow, as I have never seen snow. My mother grew up in Michigan with her seven siblings and she has told me all about what it was like waking up to the thick layer of fresh snow encasing everything and how it was the children’s job to clear the drive and walk way before school. She always complains how she ended up being to one who did most of the work as her siblings tended to play around in the snow more than actually shoveling it. She moved to Florida when she was seventeen and sternly claims that she does not miss the snow one bit. My father, on the other hand, has always hated snow with a passion. He grew up moving around from state to state and he dreaded

There has been many retellings of Snow White but some aren’t that much of a retell of the original story, and some are based loosely. Snow written by Tracy Lynn is in between those types of retelling but it isn’t the typical Snow White fairytale that many are familiar with since many twists appear in the book. Snow narrates the life of Jessica or known as Snow White who is a young kind-hearted duchess without a mother who is neglected by her heartbroken father. When Jessica's father remarries, Jessica thinks she will finally get the mother she had always dreamed of, but Jessica's new stepmother is strange and dangerous. Jessica's stepmother plans to stay beautiful and "the fairest of them all". Jessica's stepmother hatches a scientific plan

It was a cold day, so cold that your arms start to sting as if a needle is impaling the surface of your skin. The wind applies a force which feels as if your face is oozing with thick crimson red blood. The gray puffy clouds covered the sky and dropped small snowflakes onto the road’s surface. A man stood there, freezing, clearing the coat of thick white snow from the concrete road. His nose runs with a river of snot that floods out when the cold wind strikes. His sense of smell is heavily clogged by the slimy snot, but he can still smell the scent of the steamy hot chocolate which sits on the top of his snow covered car. His feet start to numb because of the cold flood which soaks through his boots to his white, silky socks. His feet feel as if he stepped into the freezing cold ocean. As if he fell through ice and he was stuck standing there. The vast pile of the ice white snow feels almost like a quicksand around his black rubber boot. Foggy figures of people shovel the big piles of snow off the sidewalks. They scrape and pick at the glossy white ice which sticks to the sidewalk like a little boy clinging to his mother's side. His feet still sting as if he was stepping on pins and needles. His hands are damp with sweat from grasping the curved metal shaft attached to a socket which holds the blade. The blade cuts holes into the thick powdered snow which is removed from the endless pile. The jet black shovel is filled with slushy snow and crystal shards of ice. The end of

On a snowy and windy night, I was at Barnes & Noble in Green Bay with my friends, Alan and Karina. Christmas music played overhead, the smell of hot chocolate and freshly brewed coffee wafted over, the customers were kind and cheerful, and snow was beginning to blanket the parking lot outside. We were sitting near the cafe wrapping books to support their mom’s school fundraiser. I stared outside and remembered my mom’s warning of the large snowfall that was almost upon us. Around 7:15, the snowflakes were becoming larger and we could barely see outside the window.