Honestly Homely

Honestly Homely


The smooth breeze ruffles the great evergreen trees large bushel of leaves, it sang with the wind as snowflakes drifted towards the ground in an elegant dance with the wind. A figure rushes up the mountain side, with two cups in hand, her feet squishing against the pillow-like snow the coated the earth. Her breath white and her cheeks rosy, she stopped at the apex of the hill and stared up the tree. Its mixture of greenery and white snow gave it a painting-like quality, smooth edges of snow with prickly green spines wiggling through with every kiss of the wind. She stepped towards the tree whose rough bark had been carved into, two names and a promise. She sat underneath the engraving and waited underneath the tree its branches bracing her from the wind that turned from a soft kiss to a hard bite. The snowflakes began to thunder down, no longer held in together in their friendly dance. The tiny specks of green from grass were smothered and suffocated by white snow and frost. But she did not shiver as the white fog drifted from the two cups in her hands. Her fingers, delicate and smooth, did not flinch from the teeth of the cold but bathed in warmth, bathed in heat. As the wind and the snow died down, she came into focus. Her head and body covered by thick white coat with feathery like collar and sleeve all connected by a smooth silvery material. Her legs dressed in black cloth with large white boots covering her ankles and feet, her knees moved close together as she huddled with the two drinks in hands. She felt a hand on her shoulder and a smile touched her face, reaching from rosy cheek to rosy cheek. She gave one of the drinks to the mysterious hand and its owner. With a plop the figure with the hand sat next to her, with her. She removed her hood and smiled at the figure, the man, which sat next to her. The man, he smiled at her. She poked the man playfully, her finger gently pushing against his brown coat: one free of embroidery, one very simple and plain. The man in turn ruffled her hair, the brown locks falling freely onto her face. They laughed together and toasted their drinks underneath the grand tree. The man removed his hood and opened the top of his drink. He inhaled the steam and smiled, the black liquid carried a bitter smell. He turned to the woman and talked to her, she giggled in fits as she drank some of her beverage, a brown liquid with a sweet aroma. As they talked, the tree shifted with the wind causing small specks of snow to drift softly onto the pair. The woman pointed at the man’s face as the snow particles rested in his black hair and his beard. The man made faces at the woman as more and more small particles fell onto his head and into his drink. The man grinned at her and point towards the tree; she felt the snow on her face as the white drops melted against her smooth face. She felt the moisture of the snow in her thick brown hair; she sifted through it until she cared not for the white color in her locks. The wind kissed their skin causing them both to shiver in their boots, the man moved closer to the woman and held her close; she laid her head upon his shoulder. The wind drifted through the tree as the two figure’s drinks touched rims and spilled into each other, a mixture of brown and black with specks of white with an aroma tantalizing full of both texture and flavor: bitter and sweet.