London Snow
MissLinuxthePenguin
The delectable smells fill the air, creating an atmosphere of elegance and desire. The dark browns and creamy whites cling to the walls, red paint bold and striking. Bodies hurry- neglecting their surroundings. Among tables and couches, a young woman sips a cup of black coffee. Her long deep brown hair compliments the decor, it is almost as if she blends into the walls.
Mournfully glancing into the streets of London, her true nature betrays her, sending a cascade of coffee into her lap. Cursing, she grabs the pile of napkins sitting near by; the romantic idea of a coffee shop in London ruined and the chaotic reality begins to set in.
Sighing, she gives up trying to save her coffee-stained blouse and makes her way out of the small shop.
She passes a elderly couple walking on the sidewalk, holding hands and chatting about the weather. She only wishes she could have that, and as she begins to blink back tears she adverts her attention to the snow covered streets.
The snow is gray and runny, no longer does it possess the beauty it once did. The flocks of other Londoners take no notice of the snow, after all who would take notice of something that was once so beautiful but now so mundane?
She stops, taking a moment to sympathize with the snow.
"I thought he loved me."
The snow looks back up at her, unchanging. Instantly she regrets pouring her heart out to a pile of dirtied snow.
"I do."
With a small squeak, she spins around to come face to face with him.
Stammering, she looks into his eyes "Yyyou do?"
Smiling, he responds. "Yes, I love you."
From deep brown to shocking bright pink, the dark circles under her eyes seem to disappear as the two walk down the street chatting about the weather and of course, the snow.