Drabble Wednesday: Winter Cometh

It’s a celebration (or condemnation, I’m not sure) of the winter season on today’s Drabble Wednesday…

Echoes of Winter

The snow fell deep and frigid that winter season. At night, doors were bolted against the cold, and hearths snapped with blazing logs and roasting meat. Dogs snuggled at their master’s feet, pricking their ears to catch the howl of the wolves outside. And under the rising moon, fields of snow sparkled while rabbits fled the sound of scratching footsteps.

Crunch, crunch, came the noise of each footfall. A line of tracks led from the woods, displayed in the moonlight through the frozen expanse. But nowhere to be seen, not silhouette nor form, was the creature that made those tracks...

Ice

Like lemmings they gathered at the sites, with their cameras and their cell phones recording the slow moving, ever encroaching ice. The air echoed with laughter, jokes; it seemed an entertaining game. They captured the scene on shaky video and in snapshots, and uploaded it all to the digital stream. It even went viral.

Such innocence was fleeting, for they never realized the significance. Until far too late. Never realized that the ice heralded the first moments of the end, the beginning of the final ice age of Earth.

Now they wait, we all wait, as the last fires die…

Bad Winter

I can’t believe this weather!  Nothing but blowing wind, snow, and arctic cold!  I don’t like whining, but when icicles are forming on the inside of the windows and even the cat’s toes are turning blue with the cold, it’s time to complain.

The heating won’t work; I think the oil froze.  Wood is running low for the stove and the food supply is down to four cans of peaches, half a roast chicken and one prune.  I’d call for help, but my fingers are too stiff to dial the phone.  This snowstorm had better break soon or we’re doomed.

Snow and Globes

I poured myself some coffee made from fresh melted snow and adjusted my new top hat to a jaunty angle.  I tossed the carrot in the dustbin, and sat down at the kitchen table to admire the seventeen orbs of my snow globes.  They were safe now.

Maybe I should've felt guilty about what I did, but he got what he deserved for cheating in the snowball fight.  I’m not giving my snow globes to a cheat, not even Frosty the Snowman.

No, he got a hair dryer and bucket instead.  And he melted like silly putty on a grill.