I really dislike snow, but at the same time, I love it. It's so beautiful and perfect. That is, until cars or people walk all over it. Then it turns into slush. And slush, is annoying. It's been snowing over here like non-stop.
A few days ago, on the seventeenth of December to be exact, I was just lying on the floor, trying to fall asleep. (I haven't slept in a bed for a while. Some strange reason, I like the floor more.) I started thinking about snow. I came up with a sentence.
The snow was beautiful and appeared to be fragile, as it fell from the greyish-white clouds above, covering the ground with a perfect white blanket.
To make a long story short, I ended up with a story almost two pages long. I ended up going to sleep at around 11:40pm. That doesn't happen often. My writing doesn't usually spontaneously pop into my mind. I'm glad it did though.
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