Senses

I heard the snow first.

Sleeping was difficult and I was resless from emotional turmoil, so once when I woke I heard the smacking-slick-rolling-swish of tires on the well-travelled street in front of my house.

Next I noticed the changed quality of the light. The moon sometimes graces my bedroom windows with silver radiance, but she is a sliver, waxing. And it is winter and plush tapestry pillows are stacked on my windowseat against the cold glass and moonlight cannot spill so bright into the room.

But street lights sheeting off fresh white snow can.

The cats had cocooned me, lying along my body on each side and when I struggled to rise to an elbow, one hissed. My muddled thoughts contemplated driving across town through the wet first snow, to a holiday party, with fresh bread or pie sitting on the seat beside me, ready to be tasted.

My tires would swish, swish, swish.


Use the senses in your writing today!
Robin