SHORT STORY
David in the snow: A trip down memory lane By Daniel Mulgrew (aged 10) There is an old man called David, sitting next to the window, his frail body supported by the chair and his brow full of creases, each one for a year of his life. On this extremely rare occasion he is watching the snow fall outside, each unique snowflake floating down from the sky, glistening in the afternoon sun. His shining emerald green eyes are a gateway to the past. He is immediately transported back to his idyllic childhood. He is now a nine-yearold boy throwing on his jacket and pulling on his wellies before charging out of the house to play in the snow. As he is sprinting down the road, he calls for his mates, the soft, smooth snow crunching underfoot. In those days it frequently snowed, and being snowed in, all you could do was play in the snow, making snowmen, and throwing snowballs. You could run and play around all day. Every time it snowed all the bad things in life seemed to go away. His favourite time was when the snow was so deep it was up to his waist; his great snowball fight with Phil resulted in both on the ground. Suddenly, he heard his name being called, and he returned to present day. It was his wife offering him a cup of creamy, rich, dark coffee, covered in frothy goodness with a unique aroma, and he accepted. He drifted off to the past again, the heat leading him to one night when, after playing in the snow, he sits by the glowing, roaring coal fire, drinking a cup of delicious hot cocoa, warming up after being out in the snow all day. The End
Image: John Parsonage
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