The cold came, invaded, and lived in my skin like a pleasant parasite. I didn’t mind it. Like a film of waxy paper it coated my hands; lacing my fingers with delicate icy webs.
I elevated my face toward the sky, and what a wonderland awaited. An ocean of cream and dark colored swirls of foam filled the vault, and vague bursts of light popped from behind the ominous waves.
The wind dragged its sharp fingernails across my cheeks, kissing my nose, drenching it in red.
I closed my eyes and asked the wind why it teased me. The winter chuckled in response.
But oh was he beautiful, even in the desert where no snow falls. His hair was a stark ivory, as was his immense stormy beard. His long eyelashes were fringed with snowflakes, and the spray of cold rain splattered his forehead.
He seemed terribly curious about me as he gazed with blue burnt eyes into mine. I could see his face so vividly, only two inches away. The lines of his Roman nose were so proud and strong. With quiet exuberance he shook my hand with his marble fingers. Electric currents of chills zipped up my arm and buzzed in my throat, fogging up my bright eyes and sweeping my lips with water.
“I’m Jonathan,” The brass voice blew, bronze and dulcet in my ears. A million Christmas carols thronged and attacked me simultaneously, overpowering me with the flamboyant accuracy of the feud.
He blew a sweet smell of pine. I couldn’t help but drag his scent into my lungs, letting it fill me with warmth.
The marble hands gripped me again, this time by my ears. He filled my head with goodbyes; throbbing farewells contorted in my brain painfully.
Closing my eyes, I summoned up the courage to whisper,
“I’ll see you soon,”
Then he was gone, like the traces of winter that were now fleeing.
