Previous Challenge Entry (Level 1 – Beginner)
Topic: Hot and Cold (04/09/09)
By Lauren Dahl
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The snow on the walk lies even and crisp, untouched. It should not be so. It should be trampled down by your feet- snowshoes you called them for they were nearly as big. And your mug is still smoking like a fire with no flame, no light, no warmth. And it is too quiet here. I miss your voice, the sound of your booming laughter…
I bring two glasses of lemonade with ice, or rather ice with lemonade, the way you like it, and I set one on the railing by the mug from last winter. It is still untouched. I cannot bring myself to move it or wash it, if indeed it can be washed after this many months. I cannot throw it away; it was yours. But you never come.
I look hopefully at the lemonade. Maybe the cold will stand the heat better than the heat withstood the cold. But the ice is already melting and the sides of the glass weep with their passing. There is a puddle of tears on the peeling white paint. You must hurry or soon they will be gone and I with them.
But no, I cannot keep such a threat. You may go, but I- I will remain here alone year after year with my mugs and glasses; one for me and always one for you. You never drink them. They will cry and burn and I with them, but you will never come.
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