A Heart of Snow

She escaped to the stoop. It was time like these that she felt relief from the indifference inside. She knew they didn’t care for her. How could they. It had been years since her foster parents were enlightened from their artificial familial affection into compassionate disregard. She would often overhear them on the phone to their friends, “Yah, Poor Terri. She’s going thru another “rough” stage. Imagine all your family abandoning you, having no friends, and some random family to live with!”
Once again, no one understood. Once again, no one cared. This was her life. To them, she was a doll in a dollhouse. Moveable. They could incur all THEIR emotions onto her, and not realize what hers was. After she would hear them chatter, squawk, she would hide here. In the cold. But not alone. There was the snow.
She watched the snow fall like down feathers from the grey pillowy sky. She watched as the drifted this way and that. The wind would catch them and hurtle them towards danger then back away from it. Like her, the snow was passed from one house to another.
A few snowflakes landed on her hands, hands that were worn and chapped from the dryness. And for a second, they felt refreshingly numb. If only numbness could reach the heart.