317 A Winter's Tale: Winter Snowmelt — Sublimation

Ice becomes water vapor instantly in a process called sublimation. It seldom happens with snow on the ground, which first melts into liquid. And the distinction between sublimation and the sublime is a linguistic side trip that has lost its connection.

I just couldn't bring myself to leave this mountain cabin, although I knew I was free to do so. But was I? I tried hard to remember... why I was here; why I couldn't leave. And for what purpose had I come here all by myself?

To do what?

I peered from the window continuously, fixated on—and compelled by—the strange mound of snow several yards away. I had something to do with it, but I couldn't remember anything about that, either.

It was cylindrical, about 6 feet long and 2-3 feet wide. Flat, smooth snow rose at a steep angle, then rolled over it only to descend again to flatness on the other side in a tight-fitting, hugging robe of white.

Could it be a body? How did I fit in? What had I to do with all this?

It was high noon, and the gray sky was overcast with thick clouds. A brisk wind moved them quickly overhead from East to West toward me. Like a reckoning.

Then I noticed a break in the clouds heading on that same East-West track. When it was closer, I could see a bright, white spot of sunshine rolling down the mountainside, the shadow-brightness interface undulating like a rollercoaster cart. Following the light, I figured it would soon be over the cylindrical snow mound. Snow melts.

And shit happens.

When the snow melted, I anticipated eagerly, I'd finally be able to know what that was, underneath. It was the curiosity there that held me fast until I could know. I waited. Like watching a pot boil.

That was funny, I thought.

Hardly sublimation, it was still a fast thaw when it happened. In my mind's eye, an optical illusion showed a body rising instead of the snow receding.

It was me. I was right. I had everything to do with this. And it seemed I had no more unfinished business here. Now I could leave.

For the sublime.

_____

AUTHOR'S NOTES:

For Tuesday, November 12, Day 317 of the 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge.

363 WORDS (without A/N)

49 DAYS TO GO! THIS UNSEASONABLE WINTER WEATHERS ON, 366 DEGREES A DAY.

There are currently three chilled Vocal writers in this 2024 Story-a-Day Challenge:

• L.C. (Cold) Schäfer

• Rachel (Called) Deeming

• Gerard (Culled) DiLeo

"Many are cold, but few are chosen"