We have a second day off from work and school. The ice and potential snow is far from a blizzard, but sometimes the mere presence of snow can aid the death that stalks on silent cat feet.
My novel, still in the process of publication, called Snow Babies, has a central problem that concerns a blizzard. The primary threat, or possibly antagonist, of the story is a deadly blizzard that descends on a small Iowa town. In the midst of blizzard, whether they are actually hallucinations, ghosts, or banshee-like harbingers of death, are a number of snow babies. I call them snow babies. The Japanese call them yuki onna. They are spirits of the snow that can both lure people to their demise and help to save them for brighter things in their later lives.
I can’t actually speak about who or what the real life ones stalking about the suburbs of Dallas actually are. Lives are at stake in my world right now. I have to deal with some serious depression and mental challenges right now. The foretold consequences include things worse than death. I can no more name them than the owner of a glassware factory can afford to take up throwing stones. Things will shatter that I am trying desperately to protect. One thing that will definitely help is the passing of the snowstorm. Just like in my book, people are forced together in the areas of love and warmth that they depend on to survive. The snow babies themselves are, as you can see by my paffooney illustration, naked children bleached snow At this post is not meant for you. It is done for me. It is a statement of resolve and personal refusal to accept that what comes is due to fate alone… that no one can ever change an outcome. No story-teller ever believes that is the case.
So, here is a post from the snow. I was born during a blizzard. I have always known that the snow will come for me in the end. And it is very cold now where I live. More snow is in the forecast. But I will never give up trying to be warm.