Quiet Like The Snow

What would it take for things to be quiet?

Minuscule, milky orbs danced down onto the earth, seizing everything underneath victim to the hoarding amounts. The snow had layered over everything, causing each surface to glisten with a refreshing impression. Additional flakes continued to drift below with no suggestion that it would slacken in the near future.

Once he stepped outside, he was greeted with delicate kisses courtesy of the weary breeze, struggling through the dynamic metropolitan. Along with it, his gaze was immediately welcomed by the familiar muted tones of the city; an array of greys, whites, and blacks decorating a tainted canvas.

Colours tussled against the neutral hues, but to no avail, all seemingly dull in perspective due to the overwhelming amount consuming the streets. The dreary boulevards smoothly absorbed his being however, he remained content with that notion. His character was communicated well in this scenery.

Familiar clamour of the street assaulted him continuously as he ambled down the sidewalk, cars rumbling down the tar road, chatter pouring from the lips of other citizens and the lonesome matured man that sang a slightly off-tune melody while strumming his damaged wooden guitar.

However, nothing could drown out the noise. The incessant ringing that echoed in the hidden, indefinite chambers of his mind. Everything else sounded monotonous in comparison, the sadistic humming refused to be conquered by anything else. The predicament that he found himself was irrelevant; it rang every moment that his heart beat. How he desired for a moment of quiet.

Quiet- like the snow.

The peaceful crystals floating through the air in a content hush, how envious he was of them. The harmony that they resided in.

The man exhaled, allowing his warm breath to create a white vapour in the bitter air. His destination had been met: a small endearing café that he visited regularly.

Pressing his palms against the frosty glass, he pushed the door open and revelled in the pleasant waft that caressed his tinged cherry cheeks. The warmth was enjoyable in contrast to the stark, frigid atmosphere outside that fancied stabbing at his exposed skin.

“Royce!” A voice resounded throughout the charming shop, the host a petite aging lady, owning eyes sparkling with delight.

At the sound of his name, the man lifted his gaze to be met with shimmering sapphire orbs, belonging to the owner of the small café. A slight quirk of his lips expressed his amusement as he waved his hand to her in a greeting.

“Hello,” he replied, his tone gentle and barely audible over the voices affiliated with other costumers.

A grin adorned her pale, chapped lips, causing for the crows feet next to her eyes to deepen. “Café Macchiato?” She questioned cheerfully, although her voice implied that the answer was apparent.

“Yes, please.” He nodded his head thankfully, brushing the few spare snowflakes off his charcoal coat before sliding into one of the vacant booths.

A few moments passed as he adjusted to the new setting, a tingling sensation current in his fingers. The woman who seemed elated to see him was one who he had exchanged conversation with before, and so she had impressed him into her memory.

His habitual trips to the shop had accustomed her to memorize his order, which was always the same: a café macchiato. The reason why she was happy to see him though escaped him, for he was merely dead company and only offered to be an excellent listener.

“Here you go!” Elaine, the elder woman, swam into his vision with a pristine mug in hand. She set it down onto the wooden tabletop with a smile, cautious not to spill anything.

“Thank you.” He expressed his gratitude genuinely, wrapping his fingers around the cup radiating heat. Royce rummaged around in his pocket with one hand and produced a five dollar bill, pushing it towards her.

She nodded and accepted the money, vanishing from his sight, off to aide the other clientele littering the café.

When abandoned, Royce gazed down onto the foam that rested upon the murky liquid, feeling a sense of nostalgia settle in.

Before, with faint memories he recollected, he and Mia used to frequently purchase coffee at the shop. Together they would sit in one of the many booths, conversing for hours on end about everything and nothing. But those days had evaporated into the bland air.

She had left, disappeared from his life without as much as a warning. Silently, she had slipped away from his fingers, leaving them bare and begging to graze her skin once more. But his wishes remained unfulfilled and his being empty.

Mia had altered his life in various ways, some that he hadn’t even known of until she had vanished. With her it seemed that life was much brighter, abundant with colours and thrilling adventures. The stars that polluted the inky night sky shone brighter. Every object that his fingers brushed over felt warmer. Everything was simply better.

And now, it all appeared mundane. It had all became dull and vacant, lacking anything that hinted at any sort of life. But Royce and become accustomed to it, because he lacked any sort of life too.

He wasn’t surprised though, even in the happiest moments, he knew very much that this impending fate would appear sooner or later. Of course, at the time he hoped it would be later.

She was selflessness incarnated, always thinking of others before herself. This trait had always gotten her into some sort of trouble, something that Royce was always instantly ready to save her from, but she always reassured him that merely witnessing a smile blossom across their face and knowing that she had helped them was worth doing anything to get there.

He didn’t deserve her at all, and destiny was aware of this.

She had easily captured his heart, slithering her fingers around the organ and tightening her grip whenever she pleased. And now it was ripped out of his body and lying on the floor, repeatedly being stepped on by the harsh reality of it all.

All he asked was to hold her again in his arms, to bury his nose into her chestnut tresses and inhale her proverbial scent of cucumber. But it was all in vain, he realized, because in the end she still wasn’t with him.

And with all that, came the ringing. The moment that she had left was when it began.

Without recognizing he had downed the entire contents of the mug, allowing the scalding drink to run down his throat without really even tasting it. Minutes had passed of his reminiscing, which hadn’t improved his mood at all.

“Roy, are you done sweetie?” Elaine had appeared once again, sympathy compressed in her gaze. His change was set on the table.

The man nodded, offering her the barren cup while forcing his lips into a poor excuse of a smile. Elaine noticed, however, said nothing on the subject, accepting the mug and bidding Royce a good evening.

He swiped the coins into his pocket and in a matter of seconds was at the door, prepared to once again step outside.

Dusk had fallen upon the city, street lights now illuminating the streets. The brisk air continued to prickle at him though.

With quick steps he strolled across the road, eyes situated on his feet and the snow crunching underneath them. Shivers crawled up his spine, causing his entire body to shudder.

A blinding light caught his attention from his side, having for him to squint when he lifted his head. With eyes wide he paused, the reason why unknown to him.

Suddenly he was on the ground, pain piercing every inch of his body. It was excruciating to breathe, the ache ripping up his entire being. Royce could feel the crimson blood pouring out of his wounds.

The blaring of the car horn flooded into his ears, along with voices contaminated with panic constantly screaming in the air. A few words he could make out but his mind was beginning to fall faint, and the ability to comprehend much with it.

But the ringing, he realized, had stopped.

What would it take, for things to be quiet?