Fragments Gallery
Coming Home
It was cold out. Very bloody cold. Your breath frosts before your eyes as you stepped off the train. You flip up your hood to protect against the cold as you make your way off the platform. The salt on the concrete crunches underfoot as you walk. You pay it no mind.
The world is dark around you. The sun set some time back, now you're left to walk in the yellowed light of the street lamps. The world always seems less welcoming under the cover of darkness. Especially with this weather. Ice crystals blow off nearby shelters and are propelled into your face. You close your eyes and avert your face slightly, continuing to walk your route from memory until the wind subsides. After a few more steps the only bite you feel is that of the cold. Your eyes slide open and you glance back. The crystals create a glittering whirlwind of flashing ice in the light of the street lamp. It is stunning; you wish you could stay for a while to watch but the cold drives you on.
Walking on the platform was fine, as city crews had laid down salt to melt the growing ice, but once off the platform the path in front of you seems paved in snow. You cross a street of packed slick snow and, after ducking beneath some snow burdened low hanging branches, you then start up the hill. Snow crunches beneath your feet. You slide a bit but quickly regain your balance. Snow blows in clouds across the street. Your hands, shoved deep into your coats pockets, begin to feel the sharp cold. A car rumbles up the road to your side. It slows and then comes to a stop a few paces ahead of you, its wheels spinning uselessly against the slick snow. As you pass them you hear them try again to no avail. Silence for a moment and then they reverse back down the hill, seeking to find an alternative route.
You turn into a cul-de-sac with relief. You were almost there, almost out of the elements.
The wind picks up again, once more spraying sharp ice crystals into your face. You trudge forward through the ankle deep snow as you continue forwards. The wind howls in your ears, the cold bites your skin and the snow slides beneath your feet, but you keep going. After all you can't stop. You’re almost there.
Soon you look up to find the Christmas lights of your house welcoming you. The multi-coloured bulbs banish the darkness from your doorstep. You pull out your keys and the door comes open. Beyond the door there is light and heat. With relief you step inside and lower your hood.
You have come home.