NOTE: This is an on-going story (in ten parts) entitled "The Blizzard Coat."
It was snowing.
Annalie’s heart silently leapt for joy that night as she watched the wintry jewels fall sideways into the thick barrier of trees that surrounded the petite house on Hummer Lane. A look of eased relaxation softened her face as she gazed at the serene scene that peeked out from between the living room curtains. Her four month old son, Mason, slept soundly in the warm nest of fleece blankets in her arms, his tiny fists rested on his chubby pink cheeks in contented comfort.
Annalie had been awake for the past three hours. The hands of the grandfather clock on the opposite wall lingered between the thickest velvet of night and the first few specks of daylight that would soon rise over the cold terrain in the east. Mason had caused her to emerge from the pleasantly warm coverlet of her bed and glide across the cold wooden floors to the rocking chair that always put him to sleep. Each step on the creaking floorboards delivered a spiteful chill that ran an arctic marathon from her toes and up to her spine, reminding her of the parasitic frost which clung to the outdoor thermometer.
After Mason’s cries had died down to a dreamful silence, Annalie didn’t return to the down comforter and soft pillows next to her warm husband upstairs. Instead, she sat in the third generation’s rocking chair, tucked in between shelves of books that her significant other had been collecting for years, and watched the sight outside. The smell of old paper and apple cinnamon scented candles played hide-n-seek with her senses as she became hypnotized by the first snowfall of the year.
The women in her family, all of the Bailer women to be exact, loved the comfort and tenderness that the falling snow had brought them. The large flakes that Minnesota provided, had always tucked in their tiny house for the winter with a bulky blanket of snow, while the howling wind sang a lullaby that put its inhabitants at ease. Snow drifts that reached the windows sills and icicles that hung from the gutters were seasonal embellishments and families of snowmen were the long awaited lawn ornaments that made the house feel like a home.
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