We were doing some 'overhauling' inside the house i.e., fixing things, moving bookshelves, putting unused things inside the box, cleaning inches of dust here and there...and found myself staring at my Chucks. Weird. It's still a wonder to me how I get caught up with things easily; and how my attention can focus on the seemingly trivial things in life, such as my Chucks. You see, I am a fanatic of this shoes. I like wearing them for one. One pair was never enough. I got three of them now and my heart says I need one more. A funky looking one, which I found myself staring at lately at the mall.
I am starting reading one of Gregory Maquire's works, The Dream Stealer. This morning, I went over the first line in the prologue which says: The night is dark, and the wind is high and strong and smells of snow: so gather close around the fire, my little friends, and I will tell you a tale of Baba Yaga the witch.
I stopped reading after the first line and asked myself: How does the snow smell like, anyway?
I've seen snow in the movies, lots of them actually. But I haven't really encountered or felt a real one on my hands. And I find it weird that I have grown so familiar to snow but never really touched it for real. Thus, whenever I read something about the snow, all I could do is imagine. It has become an annoying habit though that because of this urgent need to feel the snow, I would instinctively put my hand inside the freezer and scrape some ice inside it. Then my hands would get numb and I had to stop dreaming altogether again.