Almonds turned maroon, as whites were turned pink by portable heaters. Heaven fell heavy in sheets outside windows, running from the roof and washing away the junk food memories, before disappearing into sealed drains, to be stored away for another winter’s day.
From the warmth of two different bedrooms, two identical decisions were being made.
Their feet hit the road at rhythms not the same; one, the scuttle of a Terrier on floorboard, and the other with the purposeful bound of a Doberman. Birds of all ages fought against the elements to watch from above, as these two shadows crossed a bitumen maze below at great speed. The shadows’ silent calls thudding dull against the winter-hardened air, each breath exploding into a dusty cloud.
The birds stopped and stole positions on the gutter of a decaying roof. The shadows had collided, the two clouds now a spilling mess from a single chimney. The maroons turned to almond, and the pinks turned back to white. Their journey had ended and junk food memories had been washed away with the night.
And behind the one dusty cloud were two clear smiles. Smiles at the idea that no thought was as silly as rain falling like snow in summertime.
