As Snow Falls

By Elle Klass

I wasn't crazy! I continued walking. He got out of the truck and walked after me. When he caught up to me, I refused to speak with him. He then told me I was crazier than he thought, because I was walking to nowhere and I would end up dying of hypothermia in the cold, winter night air. I continued to walk, ignoring him even though he was right; as soon as the sun set it would be cold. It wasn't like sleeping on the beach during a warm summer night. The desert got cold. He got back in his truck and cut me off with it, got out, picked me up, and threw me over his shoulder. I was kicking and screaming as he put me back in the truck. He took rope and tied the door handle to the truck bed so I couldn't open it. He wasn't going to lock me in here! I went for the other door but it was locked too. I yelled and screamed that he was the crazy one, trying to run me over and kidnap me!

" Despite her happy marriage, another past lover haunts her. On hearing about his death,
she realizes that his love had influenced her decisions “beyond his grave”—an insightful commentary on the nature of
lost love."

Kirkus Reviews

• Language: English
• Publisher: Elle Klass
• Release date: Aug 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781301972395

Elle Klass

Elle Klass is an award winning author. She currently lives in Florida with her family. To date she has written and published over sixteen books, in varying genre's including mystery, suspense, psychological thrillers, fantasy, sci-fi and contemporary fiction. When she's not writing she's spending time with family or friends, traveling, relaxing at home watching ghost and horror movies or listening to an audio book. To sign up for Elle's mailing list and get updates on new releases, events and giveaways: http://elleklass.weebly.com Subscribe on Patreon for access to exclusive material!  https://www.patreon.com/Elleklass

Book preview

Elle Klass

As Snow Falls

Copyright © 2013 by Elle Klass Smashwords edition

All rights reserved

Paperback ISBN: 9781482779707

ISBN:  9781301972395

Illustrations by Renae Van Brunt

For more information go to https://elleklass.weebly.com

Blog: http://thetroubledoyster.blogspot.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/ElleKlass

Twitter: @elleklass

Acknowledgments and Dedication

I dedicate this book to the best friend I ever could have had. He always encouraged me to follow my dreams.

I want to thank my family for their encouragement and assistance in writing and editing this book. I thank my daughter Renae for her artistic skills in designing my cover, and I thank every person who purchases a copy of this book. Enjoy the story.

Author’s Disclaimer

This book is entirely fictional. Any characters, places or events are purely figments of the author’s imagination.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, transmitted or redistributed either in its entirety or part without the author’s express written consent.

Table of Contents

About the Author

Other Books by Elle Klass

Prologue

As the snow falls gently upon the earth, leaving a patchwork quilt where bushes and dirt can still be seen, time stands still. No birds or animals can be heard, as they are snuggled away for the long winter ahead. Any sound would be heard for miles through the empty forest. The trees stand bare, and can be seen through as far as the eye can see. There is no wind blowing in any direction; just snow softly falling and covering more and more earth.

There lies a road still slightly visible, although no one has traveled it for some time. The road leads in one direction, up the mountain in a curvy path that resembles a corkscrew. This road with all its twists and bends travels over a now frozen river with low-water bridges. A few homes can be seen along this road with smoke emanating from their chimneys, leaving trails that climb into the cold, clear, snowing sky. A few lights can be seen through open drapes. At the top of the mountain lies a small square log cabin.

The log cabin is surrounded by small bushes and trees that bloom with beautiful flowers in the spring and leave behind a fragrance of freshness and newness. Thirty feet behind the log cabin is a shed about ten feet by ten feet. Inside the shed are a work table, ride-on mower, and various pieces of yard equipment. On the west side, or front of the cabin, is a covered porch with two wooden rockers and a small round table. The cabin has five windows, two in the front, and one on every other side. The curtains are drawn in all but one, the largest window that faces the front. There is a front door; in fact, it is the cabin’s only door, within a couple of feet of the cabin’s largest window. Inside the cabin there are only two rooms.

The larger room is the main living space. To the south is a kitchenette fully equipped with a two-burner stove, a standard-sized refrigerator and freezer, and double sinks nestled directly below a small window with a Christmas cactus on the windowsill. A rug lies at the foot of the sink. A small countertop covers two lower cabinets. Above are two more cabinets. The walls are lined with shelves for plates, bowls, and glasses. On the stove there is a water pot now empty. Beside the sink on one of the countertops lays an empty dish drainer. In the middle of a small square wooden table with the sides folded down are fresh cut flowers in a clear vase. There are two wooden chairs placed on opposite sides of the table. The rug underneath is diagonal to the length of the table. In front of the table is a window that faces the west on the opposite side of the door from the largest window.

On the north side of the cabin there is a full-size bed with a quilt and two down pillows. Above the bed is another window. There is a tall bureau within two steps at the foot of the bed. On the bureau is a cell phone that appears to be turned off. There are also many pictures of a boy throughout his years. Some of these pictures are of him with a beautiful lady, a young boy, and a girl. The headboard touches the east wall of the cabin. Beside the headboard is a thick wooden oval cabinet with a TV on top. The TV is shut off.

Next to the wooden cabinet is the second room in the cabin, a bathroom. Inside there is a porcelain bath supported by four legs. From the ceiling, going all around the bath, is a shower curtain. In back of the tub is the final window in the cabin. To the south of the bathtub there is a commode with shelves above it holding shampoos, lotions, flower petals, and a small candle burning, leaving a scent of lilac. To the west of the commode is a sink with the only mirror in the cabin hanging above it. Three rugs sit in front of the tub, the commode, and the sink. The door of the bathroom faces west.

On the east side of the wall, between the kitchenette and bath, is a small closet that contains cleaning supplies, extra towels, and sheets.

On the northwest corner of the cabin is a stone woodburning stove, burning brightly and feverishly, leaving behind a feeling of warmth and security. In the middle of the cabin is a large area rug covering most of the rest of the wooden floor. Two plush rocker recliners face the largest window to the west. Between the rocker recliners is a table with a lamp, a radio, and two empty coasters.

The snow continues to fall until the road is no longer visible and the lights in the houses have been turned off. The smoke from the chimneys continues to make its way out into the cold snowy night air. The only light now comes from the moon and the little log cabin at the top of the mountain. Inside the cabin an elderly woman sits, rocks, and watches the snow fall…

Sanctuary

Many years ago there was an image, a very faint image of darkness. Nothing could be seen—not even my hand—just blackness and a feeling. A feeling attached to the image and a sound, rhythmic and comforting. This was my home and it gave me a feeling of closeness, warmth, and sanctuary where nothing bad could ever exist, only goodness. Somehow God and everybody else had another plan for me that took me years to figure out. It seemed only cold harshness lay in front of me and on every side. The image remains clear in my head and the feeling in my heart. Suddenly there was a sound, a sound all too familiar to me. It was the sound of my warmth and sanctuary that said it was OK to come out. There was love, more love outside waiting for me, love I wouldn’t know if I stayed where I was. I knew it was time. My sanctuary was over, and I had to face whatever was beyond my dark, safe walls.

As I emerged into the light, it was brighter than I had ever before seen. There were faint images or silhouettes of things that made sound. Suddenly I was placed into a warm, caring cradle where I could hear and feel the pounding, rhythmic beat that had soothed me in my life so far. I felt almost at home, but somehow lost in something I didn’t know that frightened me. The feeling of sanctuary never went away, but it became fainter over the years and through my trials.

Over time the images and silhouettes around me became bright and vivid, full of color and detail. The one called Daddy had chestnut-colored wavy hair, always cut short, and green eyes the color of the fuzzy stuff he called grass that grew outside, but he had soft stuff on his face that tickled when he kissed me. The one called Mommy had gold locks the color of the world outside, and her eyes were also the color of grass. She was the one who held me most when I wanted to be held. Daddy would always leave when the brightness came out and come back when the brightness started to go away. Sometimes he would stay all the time. It followed a pattern: five brightnesses, and he would stay home for two brightnesses.

Then there was the one they called my sister, or Emily. She had shoulder-length wavy chestnut hair and eyes the color of grass as well. She was the most interesting to me because she wasn’t big. She was small like me, only a little bigger, and she would always be the first to come and make sounds at me every day. Sounds they called talking. I understood her sounds, and she understood mine. No one else seemed to understand mine, but they all seemed to understand hers, or at least they answered back with something that made sense to what she said. She would bring these things called books, sit down beside me, and talk about a book and its pictures, Mommy called this reading. Sometimes she would get on the ground and chase me around on all fours.

She could do many things Mommy and Daddy could do like pour herself a drink when she was thirsty, turn on the thing that made noises called radio, and she used only her legs to get around. I wanted to do the same. So far I could only move using my whole body, including my arms and legs. I wanted to do like her, so I decided I needed to practice. I moved to the large, soft, fuzzy thing they called a couch, and I took my hands and slowly lifted myself up. Now on my legs I was taller, and I could see down. It seemed like a long way down. Uh-oh, boom, I fell. If I did it once, I knew I could do it again. So I tried many, many times before I was finally able to stand on my legs, but once I could stand I made my way through the room only to fall on my hands and face. Somehow, once I moved my legs, my body seemed to pull forward until I was level with the ground. I continued practicing this. Mommy always said I was running.

My world seemed to grow smaller. Emily now went to school. It was just me, Mommy, and most of the brightness, which I now know is called day. When Emily would come home my day would become alive again, but it seemed short lived, as soon it would be dark again. Seeing how lonely I had become, Daddy brought home a soft, furry creature he called a kitten, and he asked me and Emily to name it. Emily was the only person who seemed to understand me, so we decided to name it Mr. Fur. Mommy and Daddy laughed as they suggested Mrs. Fur, saying it was a female kitten but we wouldn’t budge, and so Mr. Fur it was. Mr. Fur became my best friend as we played together and slept together for naps. She even lay beside me when I would fall asleep on the floor.

Many of the images have become fuzzy over time, but I remember clearly when Mommy said I needed to start using the thing called a toilet. It was huge and made noises when the lever was pushed down. It was so huge, in fact, I feared it would swallow me whole, and I refused to use it. This made Mommy very upset, but she didn’t get mad. She was very persistent with my using it and wouldn’t give up. She even bought me a small one of my own. This was much better, and it didn’t have a lever that made horrible noises. It would be a long time before I faced the horror of the large toilet. Mommy took my small one away and said it was time for me to use the big one. I ran to my room and curled up on the floor with my blankets around me so she couldn’t find me, and I could feel my sanctuary once again. It seemed like forever, but she never came looking for me. Under my covers I knew this was something I had to do like leaving my comforting sanctuary. If Mommy said it was all right I had to do it.

Slowly I lifted the covers and crawled out from under them. I listened at my door and couldn’t hear anyone. I had to do this alone, face my fear by myself. With all the bravery I could get hold of, I slowly turned the knob and peeked out of my door into the hallway. I made my way into the hall and into the bathroom. Very carefully I scooted a little stool, which sat beside the sink, to the front of the toilet. Carefully I prepared myself and climbed up onto the giant toilet, which seemed to get bigger by the moment. I was very careful not to touch or lean back on the lever that made the loud noises. I did what Mommy wanted and quickly climbed off the toilet. In fact, I jumped off, put my clothes back on, touched the lever, and ran full speed ahead into Mommy. She laughed and asked what I was running from. It took awhile before I realized the lever that made loud noises wasn’t going to hurt me but flushed everything away, leaving a clean bowl behind.

As long as I can remember, on the last day of the week, Sunday—Mommy and Daddy always said was the first day, but to me it was the last day of the week—we went to a place called church. In church they said and Mommy and Daddy agreed that somebody called God created the world, all the plants and trees, all the animals, and people. I couldn’t imagine how somebody could do all that. They said he had a plan, a plan for every living creature, and nobody knew his plan, but he had one for all of us. In my small and still developing mind, I thought it was like me and my dolls. I brushed their hair, dressed them, and made them talk to each other. Did God somehow do the same thing? Were we his dolls? After church we would come home and listen to radio shows where there was always a good guy and a bad guy. The bad guy would always plan bad things to do to the good guys. Was that part of God’s plan—that there is good and bad, the bad always trying to hurt the good? Was life about God and evil? They said the evil was something like God only the complete opposite. He came to take us away from God and make us his. Why would anybody want to be bad or evil? I wondered about these things for years and slowly the answers came, and as my mind developed, I understood more and more.

Sometimes on Saturdays we would go to a big place with many little places inside it called stores. There were always many people. The people all looked different. Some had short hair, and some had long hair and strange colors. Not all people had wavy and curly hair. Some people had hair that was straight, just like my clothes

Reviews for As Snow Falls

[marchaf-2 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

A touching fictitious account of a woman reviewing her life. Loved it.