Forgotten pages

A Cold Wind Blows

Foolishly the redhead wandered underneath the branches.All George had to do was let the snow loose.

An,"ahhhh!",echoed from below as he wiped snow and water from his face and began to laugh with an almost manic twist,without missing a beat revealed the snowball in his own hand and tossing upwards right into George's face.

The snow battle went on for a while but they both knew they had to get home.Both boys striding off in different directions overcoats soaked and hair dripping wet.There was a cozy fireplace awaiting him when he arrived.Both adults were out of the house,not exactly a rare occasion but he liked when he had free reign over the home.Dried off and wrapped In a thick quilt he nestled as close to the fire as he could without it being uncomfortable and began to write to the dearly missed friend in Tibet.

"It just began to snow here!I wish you could have been here for the snowball fight Ricky and I had,you would've loved it.how are your healing lessons going?They may be a tad boring but if you were to ever find yourself in a bind I bet they'd come in real handy.I bet the mountains look breathtaking from your home.What's it like?YOU said it was frigid but what is daily life like?Do the monks do anything special around this time of year?Do you have any special foods for the season.

Their correspondences weren't anything special,usually just what was going on in their lives.It was funny how much they contrasted though.A quiet schooling on the countryside and monastery life in Tibet.Families so different from one another.A mother and a family friend taking care of a boy best they could with a piece forever missing from puzzle,kind strangers who had come to take her in and love her like a little sister or daughter.They were both a little unorthodox but they were family.

He folded his finished letter and opened up Homer's Iliad his studies put a bit of a damper on the pace of reading.Despite this,he was nearing the end of the story the funeral for Paris had begun as the incredibly turbulent war comes to slow end.The ever changing strategy always intertwined with the personal conflicts between all the gods,the tale was a classic for a reason.Pages yet to be read slowly dwindled to zero as daylight faded in the windows.

Someone came through the door.He turned his head to see his mother walk into the room.Her blond hair was disheveled and windblown and she smiled softly greeted her with a hug.She set down her bag and headed for the kitchen,son following close behind.She looked tired,she always had that look but it was more prevalent,under her eyes were the beginnings of dark circles and the light in her eyes was dim.

"Can I help cook mother?"

Her blue eyes lightened up and she nodded.Setting a large pot of water to boil,George was handed a cutting board,a knife and some vegetables.He set to work cutting up the produce as his mother cubed a piece of steak and braised it a pan, juices sizzling on the cast iron.

"It's getting colder out."She stated absentmindedly.

He responded with a laugh.

"Yeah,Ricky and I had a snowball fight."

She craned her neck to look at him with a little smile and renewed interest seeping into he tone.

"That must've been fun."

He turned to look at his mother.

"It was!I dropped a big snowball on his head."

She snickered.

"What did you do for fun when it was cold out?"

He finished his chopping.She hummed,thinking to herself.

"I never had many friends when I was young but there was this when time when your father and I were still courting...he took me for a walk in the woods.We had stopped for a rest and I got the idea to throw a snowball at him.I accidentally hit him on the back of the head.He turned around and gave me puppy dog eyes before he tossed one back,we ended up playing in the snow for close to an hour."