Desiree Shokooh: Creative Writer

He couldn’t bear to press his entire palm on the glass. Only the tips of his fingers slid over the frigid window pane. He was thankful for this thin shield that guarded him from the cold outside. A waxy film of numbness began to nip his skin. He plucked his hand back and returned it to warm pocket of his fuzzy robe. On his side of the glass, he was breathing only comfortable air. 

His eyes were saturated by the heat glazing along the walls around him. He gazed out the window and peered over his tiny view of the icy land. 

I’m glad I stayed inside – Valiant thought to himself. 

He felt his chest expand with the warm atmosphere of the room. His body buried deeper into the comfort of his robe.

From behind him, his ears caught the placid sound of Honey singing as she dripped down the hallway. His eyes followed his ears and he turned to see her. He enjoyed witnessing her from a distance – watching her willowy flow. Her silky smooth caramel hair streamed down around her shoulders and draped down her back, wrapping her like a camouflage swath as she swayed past the honey-hued walls. She seemed to drift through the rooms – slipping away and emerging again. 

He saw she was headed his way. She trickled towards him with a steaming mug branching out of her arm that left a trail of vapor lingering behind her. When she reached him, she stopped singing and placed the mug on the table beside him.

He reached for the mug. He held the steamy tea under his nose, breathing in its aroma, and his eyelids gently shut. With his eyes closed, he felt the heat of the hot liquid roar on his tongue as it entered his mouth. As the hot tea made its way down his throat, it dulled his jaw, his chest, and then his entire body. 

When he opened his eyes, she was sitting down on a chair across from him – staring at him. At first she said nothing, but then her mouth began to open and a chattering ensued. He watched her slender lips as they rattled. They were moving erratically, shaking quickly, then slowly, then fast again. They were making the shape of words that evaporated into nothingness. Surely, she was speaking, but he couldn’t make out what she was saying. He wasn’t listening.

He sat there gaping at her at she spoke. He watched her in slow motion. Slower. Slower. He glared at the minute details of her facial features while she animatedly carried on talking to him. He watched as her eyes squinted, cringing and swelling, as she spoke. Her nose crinkled as her lips collided clumsily. He gawked at her in a daze while it seemed her face shuddered pointlessly.

What is she saying? He wasn’t listening. 

Instead, he decided to imagine she was singing a pretty song. It was as though he was watching her on television, on mute, yet could only hear his own music. He suddenly realized that this was all in his head, and he wished he could change the channel of his life. He turned away and looked out the window – shaking his head in dismay.

“Really? Are you sure? Because if you’re still cold, I can bring you more blankets,” she told him, though he still didn’t hear her. He didn’t respond. He just sat there, looking out the window.

“Okay, well, then, I’ll go find some more blankets just in case,” she uttered – seemingly to herself. She got up and disappeared into the walls behind him.

On the other side of the window, everything was engulfed in the coldness of winter. The outer world beyond his protective shield was like a subterranean sea of snow. Miniscule flakes of ice were floating through the air like suspended plankton in an endless ocean of frost. A thick layer of snowy white powder had settled upon the earth and covered everything in sight. 

He stared out for such a long while that it seemed like almost forever. Everything in front of his view began to muddle into one. He couldn’t discern if his eyes were focused or not. Everything was a vast miasma of frigidness. 

He couldn’t tell how long he had been sitting there. On the other side of the glass, there was a wholeness of nothingness. It was a dimension without dimensions. He felt himself become a part of the oneness, immersed, like a drifting snowflake.

Suddenly, a blustery gust of wind whistled outside. An elegant wave of sleet swam by through the sky on acurving current of frigid air. The world outside was picking up excitement. A frosty whisper carried through the landscape and tickled the frozen branches of the sycamores. The murmur of the wind turned into a howling gale, and he could feel its icy cry shriek throughout his body. Though he was warm in his side of glass, the cold of the world beyond was crawling into his soul. Tingling chills scaled up his spine. Just the thought of breathing in that icy air made him shiver. He sensed his stomach drop. He shook his head again and took another gulp of the hot tea. 

I ‘m so glad I stayed inside.

He breathed out the warm air and leaned back. With a long sigh of relief, he let out another deep exhale. Heconcentrated on his breathing – feeling the blissfully cozy air of the room enter and exit him. When he blew out each exhalation, he found great reprieve in seeing no trace of his breath as it imperceptibly blended in with the space around him. The only trace of his breath was forming as a small misty silhouette of fog on the windowpane.

He panted on the glass to thicken and widen the foggy imprint more and more. It was a reminder of the shielding protection. He touched the foggy condensation on the window with his finger and made a small circle in the center. He peeped through the little sphere and found comfort from this confinement. 

Peeking through his tiny sphere of sight, he suddenly noticed a dazzling dash of crimson curls dancing in the wintry garden of the neighbor’s front yard across the street. It looked like ribbons of red blossoms twirling in the wind amidst the snow-covered shrubbery.

Are those birds playing? Perhaps, some robins or cardinals? He looked more closely.

It could even be a burning flame? A ball of fire? He rubbed his eyes and looked again. He wiped all the fog off the window to see his view more clearly.

With a better look he saw that it was neither a flying flame nor flamboyant birds, but rather it was the neighbor herself hopping and skipping around her garden. Her gingery red curls were undulating and fluttering as she dipped and danced a solitary waltz in the snowy yard. The feathery strands of her rosy hair billowed and waved as she moved to music that only she could hear. Her sinuous locks flowed through the air like cursive – composing a story in the sky. It was as though her curls were conversing with the wind. Whatever those tresses were saying, it was mesmerizing to him. She was telling a twisting tale with the twirling action of her red ringlets surrounded by snow. It was like crimson calligraphy blazed onto a clear white canvas.

As he observed her dancing, he began to sway his head to the rhythm of her moves – watching every step she made. Her countenance was peaceful and graceful, as though her movements were underwater. The delicate aspects of her presence held a tranquilly that hovered on her face like rose petals on a glassy sea. 

As she danced, she exhaled whirls of steam. With each of her rhythmic exhalations, he saw an aura of spiraling vapor slide out from her supple lips and spin around her. Her breath was heavy with heat. She was surrounded by the coldness but filled with a brazen warmth. 

How is she so warm? Doesn’t the cold get to her? He was baffled. 

He let out another deep sigh, and felt relief in his invisible breath. He was content in exhaling air that blended into the room. He glanced through the window to watch his neighbor as she let out another long hazy breath. He was entranced by the fact that he could see her breathing as the vapor left her mouth and drifted into the cold air. He was in disbelief that she didn’t seem the least bit bothered by the frigid frost all around her. 

As she was prancing about, she unraveled a fluffy white woolen scarf that was wrapped loosely around her shoulders. She flung it behind her and it vanished as it fell – swallowed up by the snow. 

How can it be? He was shocked by how brazenly warm she was amid all the cold. 

I’m so glad I stayed inside. 

A frosty stream of snowflakes swam by his window and his body unfurled another chill. He buried himself further into the folds of his comfy robe – wrapping it tightly around his neck. 

Honey returned to him with a stack of thick blankets and cloaked them around him. She persistently tried herhardest to keep him warm. This is how she tried to keep him contented. She always recalled that their fear and dislike of the cold was what brought them together. They avoided feeling cold at all costs. She never forgot that all he ever wanted was to feel warm, so she did everything she could to keep him that way. Though, lately, it seemed to her like nothing she did was enough. Nothing would suffice. It seemed to her that every day he felt colder and colder, as though he was in a faraway icy land. Even covered in blankets, he was icy to her. When she would ask him if he was cold, he would just shake his head.  

Honey wrapped a blanket around her shoulders and glared at him while he stared out the window. His eyes were fastened to the dancing red strands of the neighbor’s hair blowing in the wind. Honey had no idea what to say or do to bring his attention back to her.  As the silence between them filled her ears, she felt the coldness creep and shove its wayinto the room. Even though the heater inside was sweltering and they were each covered in blankets, they were both still freezing. 

She decided to try talking to him. He felt the sound of her words push through the air, hurl across the room, and land into his ears. He looked over and saw her upper and lower lip colliding. Her mouth was shuddering and shaking. He imagined her in slow motion again. Frenzied lines grew like cracking ice across her face. Her eyes cringed and her nose crinkled. Every now and then, the tension in her features would build up and burst with her mouth opening-up like an abyss. He felt a cold sweat come on. Even though the room was scorching and the air inside was muggy, he felt like it was subzero.

He looked out the window, hoping to see the dancing neighbor to take to distract him from how cold he felt, but she was gone. When he looked back at Honey, every second seemed like a sluggish lifetime. He thought about the joy emanating from hopping and skipping had he seen across the street. He reached out to the window and placed his entire palm on the glass. 

What is stopping me from feeling that joy, that warmth?

All of a sudden, he jumped up and ripped off his shaggy jacket. He went to the front door and opened it wide. A blast of icy air rushed in and brushed across his face. He heard the sound of Honey’s voice asking him something.

This is it. I can’t be afraid anymore. 

He stepped out the door. The chill of the outer air surrounded his whole body and cradled him. A strange sensation took place. Just as the cold begin to blanket his skin, a pleasant peace came over him. The tension in his muscles dissolved and the tightness that once overtook him began to smoothen with a mantle of tranquility. 

A sigh was let out from his chest slowly with ease. He watched as a stream of warmvapor slithered out of his mouth. dispersing into the eager world around him. He inhaled and felt the frosty air rush into his body and surge through him with aliveness. He could feel each breath sweeping down into his body like a shock wave, but instead of scaring him, it excited him. With every inhalation, he felt the crisp air exhilarate his lungs like a reminder of how great it is to breathe. 

He walked out into his front yard and began to dance to a music only he could hear. Every part of him felt aware, sensitized and awake. When he exhaled, the breath was warm and steamy. It swirled around in his head and blew into the sky. 

The outside wasn’t cold to him, because he was full of warm from within. 

“I’m so glad I finally went outside!” He shouted out into the street.

COPYRIGHT Desiree Shokooh December 21, 2021