A Lonely Flake of Snow
The Music Box
A little girl, aged around eight, ran through the grassy meadows, sprinting towards the large junkyard of metal scraps, fast as she could, her eyes lit with excitement, despite her generally unchanging expression, and her deathly pale, monochrome face. In her left hand, she held a black and white patterned umbrella, almost matching the pure white coloured long coat that she wore.
With her right hand, she firmly grasped the sleeve of a boy who was the same age as she was, dragging her behind him, forcing him to match her speed. His long, black robe and his black, uncut hair fluttered in the breeze of the movement. His skin was just a tad bit more coloured than hers, but he still looked as though deathly ill.
“Slow down!” He yelled, panting between each syllable. “You know that running isn’t my strong point!”
The girl stopped abruptly, and allowed the grip her hand had on his sleeve loosen, and for her hand to fall. Her eyes dropped onto the grassy floor, and its abandoned rusty pieces of metal bolts and screws.
“… sorry…” She whispered, avoiding eye contact. It was the first word she had said all week.
The boy collapsed onto the grassy floor, expression showing that of pain. “Ow… my aching back…” he complained. The girl paid the complaining no heed, as she started to rummage through a pile of the metal junk.
Seeing her focus in the rusted metal piles, the boy understood what she had wanted to do. “What toy did you find this time?” he asked wearily, still rubbing his back.
The girl found what she was looking for, and turned around excitedly to show him the small contraption she held in one hand. Her eyes were wide, and almost sparkling with joy and excitement.
“A music box?” the boy deadpanned. “What’s so interesting about th…?”
Before he could finish, the girl had pulled at his sleeve, and yet again took off at her highest speeds. She sprinted to the highest point of the junkyard, on top of a pile of the scrap metal that seemed to be everywhere. Again, she stopped abruptly, and the boy collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain from his sore muscles.
But the girl seemed to have something extremely important to show him, as she twisted the key to the old, rusty music box. Her face showed the same unreadable, stone cold expression, but her eyes were filled with determination.
‘Twist, twist’ – went the key.
Then, after a crackle, and grind of the miniature gears inside the box, a soft, angelic note played. As though silver as a sound, it twinkled through the dusk sky.
It was followed by another note. Then another. Then two more. And three. The notes came in groups of twos and threes, almost brightening up the darkening sky with the sweet, silvery sounds.
The boy, moved for a moment by the tinkering notes, suddenly caught himself, and eyed the music box sceptically. “What’s so interesting about a music box?”
The girl placed the music box into his hand, firmly, as though to answer him. When the boy looked up to meet her gaze, he realized that this music box represented something more than just a sweet melody.
“…Watch…” The girl whispered. Her second word that week.
The boy observed obediently, although unsure what was to happen. The music box continued to play its enchanting tune. The girl took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
Then she started to hum.
It was the same tune as that of the music box. As though the music box acted as her guiding tune, whilst her hum made up the main vocals of the orchestra. Her voice was weak compared to that of the boys, or the sound of the music box, but nonetheless, it entranced the boy.
He snapped out of the entrancement when a flicker of white caught his eye. That same speck of pure white slowly faded as it fell to the ground. It was soon followed by another speck, and another, and another.
The boy looked up, mouth gaping in bewilderment. The sky was no longer that of sunset, but was covered by soft, greyish clouds, as flake after flake of the pure white essence descended from the heavens.
“You’re… you’re making it snow?”
It was the obvious question. The girl opened her eyes, which now carried a proud, joyous sparkle behind them. She opened her black and white umbrella, and nodded; her expression still devoid of any emotion, but after all this time, the boy was already used to that.
“Wow… you’re learning faster than I thought.” He allowed her to see one of his rare, genuine smiles, as he patted her on the head, wiping a flake of snow out of her hair as he did so. “With any luck, you’ll be just as good as I am in no time.”
He saw a vague twinkle in her eyes. Whether he admit it or not, he enjoyed those sparks of weak emotion in her.
He soon regret this thought, however, as she quickly seemed to find a new point of interest, and made off towards it, pulling him with her.
With her right hand, she firmly grasped the sleeve of a boy who was the same age as she was, dragging her behind him, forcing him to match her speed. His long, black robe and his black, uncut hair fluttered in the breeze of the movement. His skin was just a tad bit more coloured than hers, but he still looked as though deathly ill.
“Slow down!” He yelled, panting between each syllable. “You know that running isn’t my strong point!”
The girl stopped abruptly, and allowed the grip her hand had on his sleeve loosen, and for her hand to fall. Her eyes dropped onto the grassy floor, and its abandoned rusty pieces of metal bolts and screws.
“… sorry…” She whispered, avoiding eye contact. It was the first word she had said all week.
The boy collapsed onto the grassy floor, expression showing that of pain. “Ow… my aching back…” he complained. The girl paid the complaining no heed, as she started to rummage through a pile of the metal junk.
Seeing her focus in the rusted metal piles, the boy understood what she had wanted to do. “What toy did you find this time?” he asked wearily, still rubbing his back.
The girl found what she was looking for, and turned around excitedly to show him the small contraption she held in one hand. Her eyes were wide, and almost sparkling with joy and excitement.
“A music box?” the boy deadpanned. “What’s so interesting about th…?”
Before he could finish, the girl had pulled at his sleeve, and yet again took off at her highest speeds. She sprinted to the highest point of the junkyard, on top of a pile of the scrap metal that seemed to be everywhere. Again, she stopped abruptly, and the boy collapsed to the ground, groaning in pain from his sore muscles.
But the girl seemed to have something extremely important to show him, as she twisted the key to the old, rusty music box. Her face showed the same unreadable, stone cold expression, but her eyes were filled with determination.
‘Twist, twist’ – went the key.
Then, after a crackle, and grind of the miniature gears inside the box, a soft, angelic note played. As though silver as a sound, it twinkled through the dusk sky.
It was followed by another note. Then another. Then two more. And three. The notes came in groups of twos and threes, almost brightening up the darkening sky with the sweet, silvery sounds.
The boy, moved for a moment by the tinkering notes, suddenly caught himself, and eyed the music box sceptically. “What’s so interesting about a music box?”
The girl placed the music box into his hand, firmly, as though to answer him. When the boy looked up to meet her gaze, he realized that this music box represented something more than just a sweet melody.
“…Watch…” The girl whispered. Her second word that week.
The boy observed obediently, although unsure what was to happen. The music box continued to play its enchanting tune. The girl took a deep breath, and closed her eyes.
Then she started to hum.
It was the same tune as that of the music box. As though the music box acted as her guiding tune, whilst her hum made up the main vocals of the orchestra. Her voice was weak compared to that of the boys, or the sound of the music box, but nonetheless, it entranced the boy.
He snapped out of the entrancement when a flicker of white caught his eye. That same speck of pure white slowly faded as it fell to the ground. It was soon followed by another speck, and another, and another.
The boy looked up, mouth gaping in bewilderment. The sky was no longer that of sunset, but was covered by soft, greyish clouds, as flake after flake of the pure white essence descended from the heavens.
“You’re… you’re making it snow?”
It was the obvious question. The girl opened her eyes, which now carried a proud, joyous sparkle behind them. She opened her black and white umbrella, and nodded; her expression still devoid of any emotion, but after all this time, the boy was already used to that.
“Wow… you’re learning faster than I thought.” He allowed her to see one of his rare, genuine smiles, as he patted her on the head, wiping a flake of snow out of her hair as he did so. “With any luck, you’ll be just as good as I am in no time.”
He saw a vague twinkle in her eyes. Whether he admit it or not, he enjoyed those sparks of weak emotion in her.
He soon regret this thought, however, as she quickly seemed to find a new point of interest, and made off towards it, pulling him with her.