The First Time I Saw A Chair In the Snow

It was cold and desolate. The snowflakes made the plastic shiver. I felt as if I were one of the chairs – the tinge of frost bearing down upon me, covering me up, and weighing me down.

I was only five years old when I first stared out of the Ski Lodge in Wyoming and saw the violence and passion of the frozen H2O molecules interacting with the plasticity of the chairs. I could see their inner souls slow down to a freezing halt. Who were these chairs, and why did they deserve the weight of the snow? I could only guess at the time. But I imagined myself as the chair, bent up, and strewn across the ground. My four chair limbs frozen in solid positions, defenseless to the bullets that the clouds had thrown on me.

I survived that first episode, but ever since, I have been shaken up by the brazen nature of those white flurry’s.