Area Code 999
The snowflake landed on her nose. All I wanted to do at that point was dream with this cuteness that I was there on the other side of the screen, calling from the back door for her to run on home to an overflow of hot cocoa with whipped cream, sipped behind the drapery of the living room window where the fire crackles like a cackle of geese, returning already for next season with the unfolding gladiolous and azelea leaves. The spontaneous smile turns into an internal scream... What a wicked and splendid machine, the modern phone, showing us how much we miss between the moments we would capture in a photo if allowed to be close; a lake of ice, cut so neat and precise that the fingers skate across with always a threat of cracking up... a laugh, a shattered tear... for all the separations from what we love.