Snowbomb
#9 of A Thousand Megatons of Love
The side-effect of being an evening writer; sometimes you lose track of time and end up writing all night long.
As long as you're a productive insomniac, you can feel justified.
It's a bit shorter than I expected, but I hope the gist comes through.
Snowbomb
I looked outside my window; snow had been steadily piling up over the past three days, adding a new inch of white powder every eight hours or so. Beyond the glass it was as white as a forest could get, pure blinding white-out conditions. It made my eyes sting, forcing me to squint as I watched thick snowflakes fall from the sky. A powerful wind was bringing them at a sharp angle through the limbs of the trees. We were snowed in.
I walked out of my room and into the living room, where Jason had a nice fire going and a tray of hot chocolate steaming on the oak table. He was sitting on a couch, eyes closed with his arms crossed over his brown shirt, listening to the boom-box that rested beside the hot chocolate. The Coasters were chugging out their song Charlie Brown, and whenever Jason's favorite line came up--"Why is everybody always pickin' on me?"--he gave a wide smile. I stretched and walked over to the couch, grabbing a mug of the hot chocolate before sitting next to the wolf.
"Looks like a white-out," Jason said. I mumbled a simple "Mm-Hmm" into my cocoa as I drank, feeling the hot liquid warm me up.
"Reminds me of that one September not too long ago..."
"Oh, that one where you finally stood up to that bear bully?"
"Nah, I'm thinking of the one where we found all those T. Rex tapes buried in the snow, and then promptly lost them."
"Ooh, biggest mistake of our lives."
"Mm-Hmm."
I took another drink from the mug. I'm not sure, but it was just something about the conditions outside that made the taste of hot liquid chocolate so incredible. Jason scooted closer and put his arm around my shoulder. I put my arm around his in response. We looked at each other for a little while, just smiling, thinking of times past.
You get a lot of time to think after the world's been screwed and trying to pick itself back up. A lot of that time is spent reflecting on the things that used to be, probably because those times were filled with stability and security. You knew where things were, you knew what you had to do, and you knew how things worked. Things tend to change when the planet gets geo-raped by a comet. You have to reinvent yourself, adapt to a new set of surroundings, and just survive. True, it's not that simple, but sometimes you get lucky. I know I got lucky, quite a few times actually.
I guess my point is that it's okay to remember how things used to be, as long as you do it in moderation. Remembering a past life for too long tends to make you forgot about how things are now, and one day you wake up thinking you have to go to work, buy some food, and get a new exhaust for your Chevy without realizing that you have no job, no money, and no vehicle; everything was swallowed up by a rock from space...and the resulting degradation of The System.
Realizing that the world you knew is over was a depressing thought, but when you have someone that you can share your world with, it makes everything seem a lot brighter. I pulled my legs up onto the couch and placed my head on Jason's shoulder, taking another sip of hot chocolate as The Coasters carried on with Yakety Yak and the wood in the fireplace crackled diligently.
He and I started talking about all the adventures we've had over the short time we've spent together. All the fights we've had with gangs, with strangers passing through town, with friends, and with each other. We talked about the time Jason got drunk off of a case of beer he stole and dreamt of a headless scarecrow jogging through a pool filled with Pepto-Bismal. We talked about how I sleep-walked my way into an old convenient store and woke up with a tire wrapped around my waist (Jason laughed and said I must be pretty insecure to be putting on that big of a rubber). We talked and talked for hours on end, laughing at some stories and shedding a tear for others. We even told each other about the things we did in the days before the comet, but not everything; there were some things I wanted to stay buried, things that, if unearthed, would mean change, and I didn't want any more change.
"Yep, we've had quite a long run," Jason said. I nodded against his shoulder, nestling closer to him as I closed my eyes.
"Yeah," I muttered into his ear, "and I hope the game never ends."
After a time, we fell asleep on the couch with our arms wrapped around each other. When I woke up, the fire had died, The Coasters were done singing, the cocoa had gone cold, and the snow had even let up outside, but Jason was still sleeping beside me.