or;
Christmas In April
He bopped down the snow covered walkway singing;
"I'm Mister White Christmas, I'm Mister Snow. I'm Mister Icicle, I'm Mister Ten Below. Friends call me snow miser, whatever I touch- turns to snow in my clutch. I'm too much."
The icy patches in front of the poorly shoveled shop doorways meant nothing to Mr. Snow, who adeptly scuttled past the possible pratfalls.
The energetic and internal rhythm of Big Bad Voodoo Daddy's song kept him swaying and spinning, his nonchalant footwork, out of step with the gingerly footing of his fellow pedestrians. This was the Christmas season and he loved the Holidays, especially the snow.
There was only one thing missing in his revelry, one missing piece that could truly fill his heart with Christmas cheer, and that was someone to share his joys, to sit beside him Christmas morning and open his gifts. Still, this was Christmas, and he was not going to let anything damper his happiness.
He approached a street corner and prepared to turn east toward home...where he had eggnog chilling in the refrigerator.
Trudging carefully from the west, a woman disguised in heavy bundles of winter clothing shivered out this hopeless wish;
"I'm Miss Green Christmas, I'm Miss Sun. I'm Miss Heat Blister, I'm Miss Hundred and one. They call me heatmiser, whatever I touch- starts to melt in my clutch. I'm too much! "
She plodded, head down, jacket collar turned up, avoiding the cold easterly wind and the increasing flecks of falling snow. She hated the Maine winter, and dreamed of life anywhere in the warm sunshine. What made her misery worse was the knowledge that yet another Christmas season found her alone. Without a companion to share the quiet glow of a well-lit fireplace, the Christmas season seemed interminable.
Synchronicity might seem implausible to mature readers weaned on existential skepticism and dispiriting naturalism, but for those who believe in chance encounters, destiny was just around the corner....
Mister Snow hung a left, just as Miss Sun tried to cut a sharp right...and as if they were part of a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup commercial...the two collided, landing, unceremoniously on their backsides.
It would be highly romanticized to say that the stars fluttering above their heads pertained to anything but their collision; still, true romantics will insist that the twinkling sensation each felt was, in fact, love at first sight.
Miss Sun, her legs straddled unladylike along the slippery walkway, looked up from her compromising position, and across to the unbalanced force that had proved Newton's first law.
"Watch where you're going Fathead!" she angrily yelled between shivers.
Indignant, Mister Snow countered, "Watch where I'm going? You bumped into me! I'm not a Fathead, you're the Fathead!"
It was not exactly a Noel Coward-like rebuttal, but it was fair tit-for-tat.
Having uttered his payback, Mister Cool struggled to his feet and offered his hand to his still prone adversary. "Do I look helpless? I don't need your hand, I can do it myself!" she sputtered, gingerly rising to her feet.
He took a step toward her and complained, "Excuse me, I was just trying to be a gentleman!"
Hearing his words, she balled up her fist and waved it in front of his nose, "Talk to me once more like I'm a helpless woman and so help me I'll bloody that bulbous beak of yours!"
"Oh, alliteration, be still my heart!" He chuckled impishly, proud of his witty remark. He then stuck out his hand, "My name's Mike, you can either bite it or shake it."
His joke thawed the ice that had frozen a drown on her face, and she cracked a slight grin and took his hand. "Ok, my name is Mardi, no harm I guess. I mean, there's nothing broken and all my limbs are still attached."
"You have a nice smile, you should use it more often," he chided. Despite her desire to be seen as a strong woman, he noticed that the muscles in her jaw loosened and her eyes grew softer with his comment.
"It's just this darn winter, it never ends. Give me a reason to smile?"
He looked at her and hesitated, not sure of what he was about to suggest, "Have a coffee with me and maybe I can convince you of some reasons."
She seemed startled but recovered, "What, my threatening to flatten you didn't scare you off?" she laughed slightly.
"What can i say, I like tough women," he joked.
"Mike, you're weird, I think I knocked the sense out of you when we collided."
"Actually I think you knocked some sense into me...do you like eggnog?"
"Do I like what?" she asked with a quizzical laugh.
"Never mind, if you don't, you will. I have faith...Madam...my arm."
"Surprisingly I believe you." she replied, linking her left arm through his right and allowing herself to be escorted down the icy sidewalk...a slight bounce in their steps that accompanied the music in their heads.
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