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Date Posted: 13:53:26 10/23/03 Thu
Author: Kylie
Author Host/IP: CWPP-p-144-134-231-144.prem.tmns.net.au / 144.134.231.144
Subject: It's not a poem, but what do you think?

SNOW STORM

It was cold, bitterly cold, like the core of Jehaan’s heart. Heavy drifts of snow lay outside the cabin. Only the dirty faded red of the Camry’s roof was visible through the cotton wool lense of the blizzard, creating a blood smear against the pristine white landscape.

This was the first one, the first blizzard since Jorge had died. Jehaan looked across at the rust-coloured roof of the vehicle and shivered. When Jorge had died his blood had been just that colour.

They would never have been out in the blizzard if Jehaan hadn’t forced the issue of a baby. She had wanted one so badly. Jorge had always resisted, but when she had turned thirty, Jehaan had become desperate and, out of love for his wife Jorge had agreed to try for a baby. Three months later Jehaan had been ecstatic as she shared with Jorge that she was pregnant. For her sake Jorge tried to be excited.

Jehaan hadn’t really thought about the timing of the birth, having only a few moments’ pause when concerns about a winter delivery surfaced. She didn’t allow herself excessive worry, knowing that the baby would be born in late August, when the worst of the season would be past.

An early delivery hadn’t crossed Jehaan’s mind, so when she slipped on some ice at seven months she was completely unprepared. Tingling pains started in her back immediately, but Jehaan put these down to a pulled muscle, not wanting to head out for a false alarm because storm clouds were congregating in the south and she didn’t want them to be caught at the hospital during a blizzard. It was several hours before she mentioned her concerns to Jorge.

By then labour and the storm were upon them. The phone lines were out and they were left with no choice but to defy the elements and make the emergency trip.

It happened in a moment. The car skidded on a corner. It started to spin out of control. Then the electricity pole was in front of them. Jorge jerked the wheel of the car around, taking the greater force of the collision on his side of the vehicle. He was killed instantly.

Jehaan had sat there, waiting for the ambulance, watching his life force mixing with the churned up snow, freezing inside as it took on the unnatural tarnished tone of mud and blood pooling together.

Like Jorge, the baby had not survived the accident. The doctor’s said it was born stillborn sometime that night. Jehaan couldn’t remember.

Watching the Camry become a gradually disappearing red dot in the whiteness outside, Jehaan reflected on the journey she had taken in the last year, the numbness, the pain, the sorrow, the anger, the eventual tender, sad acceptance, and a raw half-smile pushed past the morose as she leant down to light the matching tiered pair of candles she had bought to mark the anniversary of the blizzard which had changed her life.

KR 23/10/2003

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Replies:

[> Re: It's not a poem, but what do you think? -- Dudo, 15:03:34 10/23/03 Thu (mxpp-p-144-138-189-10.prem.tmns.net.au/144.138.189.10)

MORE PLEASE!!!!(clap, clap)


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[> Re: It's not a poem, but what do you think? -- Susan, 14:11:18 10/24/03 Fri (CPE-144-137-209-232.sa.bigpond.net.au/144.137.209.232)

You are very very talented, Kylie.


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