Friday, February 3, 2012

Schnee.

#. Outside my office window, it is snowing beautifully.
(Interrupted by a Coke break, or rather, a I Already Have A Coke But I Am Going With You To The Machine Anyway break. Which was a good thing because I had not been sure how to continue after that initial sentence anyway. 

Maybe something about Cassandra waving strangely in my peripheral view, her voice muted by my massive WESC earphones, then me removing them to catch what she has been trying to say, an act proven pointless as midway through I am already noticing the direction of her pointing fingers, and then, the falling, breathtaking snow.

Maybe something about an afternoon a little over two years ago, me trying to decipher what she meant when Zoe wrote on her Skype status a solitary word, "Schnee," and then, without having ever consciously learnt this German word, I automatically understood its implication and looked out from the very same window, seeing my first Brussels snowflakes. 

And, maybe, something about my last.)