There was this young lady, you see. Not too sure about the “lady” part, but anyway. She was riding a white horse (okay, bicycle) towards the old centre of her new town, where she would meet her beloved knight who wasn’t actually a knight but something better – a healer of sicknesses.
During the last day the weather had gotten colder and icier, and it had been snowing. Accordingly she rode/drove carefully, which on the one hand lowered the freezingly cold air stream, on the other hand extended the time until she’d arrive.
The lady was a foreigner, not quite accustomed to the different weather conditions, so she was getting colder and colder in her German winter jacket, German gloves, and, well, NZ cap. Her fingers hurt with biting frost and her throat hurt from the cold air she breathed. However, she made it to the town centre and met her healer. They went out eating and afterwards, when he had to leave again, she went through the halls where merchants traded their (more or less) fair stuff. There, betwixt tights and socks, she had the strangest encounter.
Her courage fell when she thought of the journey back home, but suddenly she looked up and saw a little girl standing before her, four summers old maybe, looking at her curiously. Softly, the lady smiled, and looked down again. A second later she looked up and saw the girl once more, and smiled once more, a bit brighter. This time, the little angle answered with the happiest smile. She had very long, curly brown hair and a soft face with twinkling brown eyes. She said something, but since the lady was a foreigner, she didn’t understand and turned around again. A moment later, the little angel hid behind the lady. The lady turned around, but the angel followed, hiding behind her back. They spun around in a circle, hence and forth, and the angel was laughing. Quickly afterwards, the lady went away, but she wouldn’t forget that little encounter.
With a sigh she mounted her loyal bicycle, Eleonora, and started driving home.
She let her mind wander, thinking of cameras, winter jackets, the cold air, tattoos, jobs, this and that. She let her gaze wander as well, and saw red and yellow little houses, their windows enlightened with little lamps, she looked at the handle bar of Eleonora, and at the dangerous icy road beneath her. Carefully, she lifted her hands just a bit from the handles, trying what she’d never managed in the past: driving hands free.
She saw swirls of snow lifted up from the icy road, swirled around as if the wind played a bit with it and then carefully laid it down again. She saw the lights, and big trees, and even bigger rocks at the side of the road, and many small houses. A dog running towards her in a garden, barking. But forever the swirls of snow, dancing, and her gloved hand, lifting carefully from the handle bar, once, again, again. The snow piles next to the road, leaning on fences. The sound of the wheels on the ice and snow, a soft crunch. The ice wind in her face. She was freezing. And she was laughing. Flying. Smiling. Looking forward. She was flying.
She felt free.