Author's Notes: I wrote this on Christmas when I wanted to write a story about it snowing LA. It wound up taking an odd turn.
Kim, Jack, the Von Trapps and George Bailey all belong to their respective owners and not me.
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Kim gently turned the knob on the thermostat before returning to the living room. Lying on the couch, under the covers and half-asleep, was her father. Though the sound on the television had been muted, she knew the movie was towards the end as Maria joined Captain von Trapp on stage.
She grabbed the remote and turned off the television. It hadn't been easy convincing her dad she wanted to watch "The Sound of Music" over their usual holiday fare, "It's a Wonderful Life" but she had succeeded. Watching someone struggle with their feelings of failure and despair hit a little too close to home for Kim this Christmas. And, as silly as it might be, she worried a little about how her dad would feel watching that.
She glanced back once more at her sleeping dad before stepping into the kitchenette and turning the light on. Opening the cabinet, she started to look for the tea.
Kim couldn't remember it being so cold in LA, even during the winter. She remembered one Christmas where she went swimming. But this year, she was standing in their kitchen still a bit cold while wearing two shirts, sweatpants, socks and slippers.
Some weathermen and environmental scientists claimed the incredible cold was due in part to the nuclear bomb that had detonated that summer. The government told people there was nothing to fear but at the same time reminded them to stay indoors while it rained. Radioactive fallout, they cautioned, could be carried in the precipitation.
She looked at the sink and thought about finishing the dishes when something moving past the window caught her eye. Kim moved towards the window as something akin to wonder and wry amusement welled up inside her. Softly, almost hesitating, she touched her fingers to the cold window.
It was snowing.