Snow, and snow, and everlasting snow Came floating gently downward, Floating in enormous flakes that dotted all the sky. Snow, and snow, more snow was coming, Turning all the sky into a Whitish-gray that settled lowly O’er the city blocks. Snow was piling on the rooftops, Snow was catching at the doors, Snow came down like gentle moondrops, Snow, it seemed, came evermore. Muffling the sound it drifted; Deadening the air it fell. Softly blew the wind, but mostly Snow alone made up the swell. Snow, and snow, and everlasting snow Went breathing gently downward, Down onto the figures two now walking through the lane. Marin glanced up at the snow, and bundled in her cloak. The billowed fabric wrapped around her, keeping cold at bay. Eyes as blue as Neptune’s depths gazed up into the grayness, So her sallow face smiled to see yet more flakes come. “Look at all the snow, Isaac!” she cheered, And spun about in place. “I wish there was less of it,” her older comrade said. “I wish there was MORE,” she cheered, And now her arms were raised. Something in her deep blue eyes went flickering, A brighter blue, A neon blue, Something that was friends with something else Immense and vast. And as the blue eyes flashed the snow Came down that much the harder, Buffeting and pattering upon the rooftops there. “Marin, come on,” Isaac whined, and gripped his bundle tighter. “Hasn’t it snowed quite enough today?” he muttered, sad. “But it’s all so pretty!” she exclaimed, and swung her arm out, Sending snowflakes swirling in a vortex white and clean. “You could make it stop, you know.” “I could, but they’d not like it.” “Who is they?” “The ones who I can feel now, in the air.” Marin pointed somewhere vaguely out into the evening, Marin’s eyes still shone a blue that Isaac brightly saw, And as they gleamed they leaked: Bright bluish trails of water falling, Falling down like great big tears they ran and ran down sallow cheeks. “I could stop the snow. I could destroy it, melt it, move it, I could make it melted water, Since that’s all it is. But it wouldn’t… feel right, no?” And Marin shrugged, and Marin smiled, and danced And her soft cloak went billowing about her frame. She was only seventeen; Isaac was just shy of thirty. So he rolled his eyes at her and pushed his glasses up. “Can’t you at least clear our path?” “Oh, yes I can!”, she brightly said, And Marin flicked her wrist Which sent the snow back in great pushes, Becoming great waves of ice Which fell and lapped against the brick, The cold and lonely gray brick stone That made the cold and lonely homes Of those who lived inside this tired old town Where Isaac lived, and sighed. “Well, thanks,” he said, and trudged along With Marin hopping fast behind, Her wide-brimmed hat upon her head To cover up her navy hair. She had, in all, a bluish cast With blue hair and blue eyes that sparkled. “You know, the others aren’t like this.” “Oh, Saera is,” said Marin then, “If you can get her going. If you can get her spirits up she’s really very fun.” “Whatever,” Isaac remarked. “Let’s both just get indoors.” “The butcher was so very nice,” said Marin, Grinning, walking fast, And twirling snowflakes round her body, Making dances, pirouettes, Amid the snowstorm, bending flurries down unto her will. “Oh, it’s Isaac!” someone called, and Isaac yelped in terror. Marin stopped her power and the snowflakes now were still Hovering falling gently in the air. As she looked she saw a woman wander towards them briskly. She was very pretty, with green eyes and auburn hair. “Ah, hello, Cordelia,” Isaac said then, Looking very nervous. “Why, hello to YOU, my dear, It’s nice to see you out! You’re always so cooped up alone, Within your store, still making candles, Dealing in hot wax and light Nigh every single day.” She smiled at him, He smiled back And Marin’s eyebrows quirked. “Who is this?” Cordelia asked, And turned to face the pretty girl, The girl with hair of ocean blue Who grinned at her, and smiled, and said “Mariana is my name: Mariana Matthia Meni, at your service. Call me Marin, please! It’s what I’m known as, by and large.” “She is, um,” And now Isaac blanched, His face blushed past his glasses. “I’m his cousin,” Marin said, “I come from out of town.” “Oh! Well, welcome,” said Cordelia to her now, And nodded. “We do not get visitors too often round these parts. The city is quite old, And it is perilous to travel, Travel through the mountains, with their High and jagged peaks. But it’s not so bad here, is it?” “No, not at all,” said Marin then, “I’ve enjoyed your city, it is… lovely,” she exclaimed, Glancing round upon the rooftops, old and gray and crumbling, And at the snow That fell and fell Out of the sky above. The city was an ancient place, and all the buildings crumbled, As the old sharp power lines went whining overhead, As the current modulators sputtered overhead. There were remnants of old force fields, And old robot guardians. But now the city was so old, And tired, and withdrawn. But Marin mentioned none of this; Instead she smiled, and brightly said, “I much like your city; it is cozy in the cold.” “Well, my grandma says the place is best amid the winter, When the snow is falling on the ruins and the stone.” “T-True enough,” said Isaac, stammering and in a panic, Smiling, grinning past his glasses At the woman there. “Well, we’d best get going,” Marin said, and smiled smugly, “We have sausages that need some cooking at our place.” “Oh, oh, of course!” Cordelia said, And nodded gently at them. “Maybe we’ll invite you sometime!” Marin said, and smiled. “Marin!” Isaac hissed at her, his eyes now bugged out hugely. But Cordelia laughed and said, “Sometime!” then turned to go. “You like her!” Marin sharply said. “Yes, I do,” sighed Isaac, then. “I’d appreciate if you would not make such a scene.” “You like her,” Marin said, and smiled, And as she did there came upon her eyes A glint, a flash of neon blue, And as it did the snow poured harder, Harder down, Falling in great heavy flakes that blasted from above. “Oy, cut it out!” Isaac exclaimed, And winced at the great burst of snow, The snow that fell in heavy patters Onto his broad cap. “Ah, sorry,” Marin said, and waved her hand, To break the snowstorm, Reducing it back to where it was, much less intense. “I’m so excited, though!” “Well, please don’t spread the news around,” He said, and clutched his bundle Tighter to his chest. The two of them went onward, On into the driving snow. Marin glanced into the graying sky, And smiled, and danced.
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