Life under the bridge was all he had known. He could not recall when he had lived like this. He would ask himself. How did I get here? My children want to see snow. Why isn’t there snow? When did I get here? This was life under the bridge. The only thing that sustained his troubled mind was the thought of snow.
He hadn’t always been like this. Once everything had made sense, and then life had manifested into long talons and snatched everything into nonexistence. His entire family had answered the inevitable call of death. That was when madness had crept in and consumed his soul. He had run off into the night with a deep desire to see snow.
Read – Brisk and Brusque – A Flash Fiction by Celestine Seyon Reuben, Nigeria
He woke up in the morning. The cold was hitting him hard. It was colder than it usually was. He crawled out from under the bridge, and thought his eyes were playing tricks on him. Is that snow? Am I dreaming? I can see snow. He dropped to his knees and gently touched it. It was so cold. This sensation elated him. He burst into laughter. Tears streamed down to his cheeks. He ran around like an ecstatic child. He dived constantly into the white powdery ice, whilst laughing at the miracle that had been given to him. Who else was it for if not him? Then he heard the sounds of small bells jingling in the sky. He looked up at the pouring snowflakes, and thought he had seen an angel. An angel bathed in red and driven by creatures with horns. He stared at the snow, and saw his family urging him on. His children giggling and diving into the snow. He lost himself to the warm embrace of love.
Pelekani Lwenje is a Zambian writer. Writing has been his passion since he stepped into the school library when he was 11 years old. He fell in love with books and their authors, loves telling stories, and hopes it sustains him and his readers.
