Snowman (grade 11)

[Guest Lindakn]

Hello, This is Chris.

 

So I did a creative writing project where I was supposed to describe a conflict. Although I'm not sure I did the conflict very well, I did enjoy writing it and i think it's alright as a story.

 

Let me know what you think- any & all criticisms/advice welcomed :)

 

Snowman

 

It was a cold winter’s night, and there I was, standing still in the center of the yard. My arms reached up to the sky above me, my long and slender fingers stretched straight out. Though I had no coat, I had six buttons; they were placed vertically along my body from my bottom all the way up to my chest. There was a scarf wrapped around my neck and a hat placed firmly on my head. I had no legs; just a separate section of body beneath my stomach. The wind whipped around me, blowing gusts of snow into my face, yet my eyes were wide open and I smiled.

Then, suddenly, something happened. I transcended my condition of inanimateness and became conscious of my existence, and I wondered, why?

It was my first thought. The realization that I was alive hit me strangely. After all, becoming capable of thought was a strange thing to happen to a snowman. I had another thought; if I can think, certainly I should be able to move!

I tested my theory, attempting to blink. Snow from my brow slid over my eyes and then back up again. Success!

I blinked twice more. I tried winking, and was successful again. Gaining confidence, I experimented with my expression. I grinned. I smiled. I gaped. I even gazed condescendingly at a small snowball in front of me, but that made me feel mean, so I quickly went back to smiling. I hoped I hadn’t committed my first sin.

I waved my hands. I shrugged my shoulders. I wiggled my body, back and forth, side to side, and a few directions that I didn’t know what to call yet. I tried moving upwards, and was surprised as I lifted an inch off the ground before falling back down. To my delight, I found that I could control my jumping so that I could move around the yard. I wiggled a few times to build momentum, then threw my arms up and leapt forwards. I never grew tired, and I was rapidly able to increase my ability to jump farther and farther until I could cross the whole yard in six bounds.

I came to realize that I needed a name. After all, the mailbox had a name, as did the car and the house! So I sat down (or rather, stayed still) on a particularly soft patch of snow to think. Not knowing any names other than those of the mailbox, the car and the house, I supposed I would have to make one up.

I surprised myself by coming up with a good name quite quickly: Coldwell. I must be the creative type, I thought. It had two parts: cold, and well, which were inspired by the two characteristics about myself that I knew for certain.

I was having the best (and first) time of life, and I felt sure that I would never grow tired of it. But when I went to the backyard to further my explorations, I found something even more wonderful.

There before me stood another snowman! I was so excited that I just stood still, speechless, staring at the other snowman.

I saw that he was taller than I was, with four body parts instead of three. His arms were shorter though, and—to my great concern—each arm had a different number of fingers! I wondered how much harder it would be to hold things… but then I realized, I hadn’t yet tried holding anything, and it might well be impossible for a snowman to hold things.

His head was drooping, and he had stayed so still up to this point that at first I thought that he hadn’t come to life yet. But now a great sigh moved through his body, and I saw that he was sad.

I hopped through the moonlit snow to him and said, “Excuse me, is something wrong?â€

He started. Then, turning to me, he said, in a somber, soft voice, “Do you not realize? When the daytime comes, the sun will melt us into puddles.â€

I gasped.

He looked back at the snow in front of him. “I was trying to throw the snow into the sky, so that it would be too cold for the sun to come out. But I just can’t throw high enough.â€

I thought about it. It was, indeed, a most perplexing situation. Probably the most perplexing situation I’d ever come across. Eventually I reached a conclusion.

“If we cannot stop the sun from coming out,†I said, “Perhaps we should simply enjoy ourselves before the day comes.â€

The other snowman looked at me, eyes wide. “You want to simply wait for the day when we will turn into puddles?â€

“Well, there is nothing we can do to stop the sun coming out.â€

He hesitated a moment, then said softly, “To be a snowman in torment would not be any better than being a puddle with no thought.â€

I noticed that the sky was not black anymore; it was becoming brighter. A wave of weariness came over me, and I let out my first yawn. “It appears as though day will soon be upon us,†I said. “Come, let’s see if we can make a snowball before the day comes!â€

He hesitated, struggling with something. “But what about the sun?â€

“I think,†I said, “That life is a daring adventure. And I don’t think we can choose how it will end; but we can certainly choose how we are going to live in the meantime.â€

A smile crept across his face. Then he turned away from me and bent over for a moment.

I suspected that he was making a snowball, and as I didn’t know how to make one with which to defend myself, yet, I realized that I should get to a more defensible position. The porch would be just such a place, and I was about to move when his snowball collided with my head!

He turned and hopped away, laughing while I shook the snow from my eyes.

I smiled, let out a big yawn, and gave chase.

[ccm]

Chris,

 

I enjoyed reading your story. Creative and insightful. Nice job!