Wednesday December 16th, 2015

The exercise:

Write about: the snow prince.

What Max was actually saying, over and over, as he marched around the deck this morning was 'snow prints'. But the above got into my head and wouldn't let go and now here we are.

We did indeed make a snowman. Here's some proof:


He was very insistent that it have a carrot for a nose. Good thing we still have lots in storage.

Mine:

The Snow Prince left snow prints in his wake as he crossed a meadow otherwise filled with green grass and pungent wildflowers. He had been travelling for several weeks but his pace remained steady, his focus unwavering. There was no option to slow down, no room for rest.

He was on his way south and time was not on his side.

For though his wintry boot prints lingered long after his passing, they would not survive indefinitely. The sun, which failed to penetrate the thick blue coat the Prince pulled tight around his stout frame, would eventually melt the snow. The puddles would turn to mud, and then no trace would remain.

The Snow Prince was so set on his destination that the only way he could find his way back to his northern home was to retrace his original path. If that disappeared before he could return to familiar landscapes... he would be lost.

And winter would envelope the world as another ice age took hold.

3 comments:

ivybennet said...

Aww, Max looks like he's having fun. Still no snow down here for us.

Marc, I am so intrigued by your story! I love how he pulls his coat around him when he's thinking about the sun, as if the only thing that could make him cold (or hurt him) is the sun. Very cool idea indeed!

The Snow Prince:

I never wanted it. Dreaded it, actually. But I always knew it was a possibility that the curse could sink its cold fingers into my soul.

The wind was howling all around me, a fierce display of wintry power. Yet, I could feel no cold on my bare arms and feet. I heard whisper in the wind: taunts thrown at the poor creatures stuck in the storm, intentions of cruelty and death, even foreshadowings of what was to come later in the season.

But the most unnerving aspect of all was the fact I was the center of the storm. I was the cause, the reason for its existence. Everything that was happening, every blast of wind or solidifying icicle or skydive of a snowflake was done for me. By me.

I had no control, no idea how to change the storm. I only knew that it was because of me that the storm was raging war by the brook in the woods.

I should have known when my brother laid upon the ground and watched as bursts of vivid color bloomed all around his body. I should have known when my sister walked through the orchard as thousands upon thousands of leaves curled within themselves and drifted to yellowing grass. I should have known when my brother could keep any plant alive with a simple touch of his hand.
I should have known all along that I was destined for the cold and death of winter. I was born as the embodiment of ice within a seemingly warm body.

I was the Snow Prince and would remain so until another came to take my place.

Greg said...

@Ivy: Hi Ivy! Great to have you back on the blog; it sounds like you'd had quite an exciting life for the past few months :) Congratulations too, on passing those boards and the new, canine addition to your family. The dog sounds adorable!
I like what you've done with the prompt, especially the idea that there are four siblings embodying the seasons and that the poor Snow Prince is the last to see his curse manifest, all the while hoping that he wouldn't happen. The penultimate paragraph in particuarly is strong, describing each of them and offering a glimpse of a very different world to ours.

@Marc: That's a very cute snowman, but shouldn't you be building them the same size as Max? ;-) Like Ivy says, your story is intriguing, especially the last line where there's a suggestion that without the Snow Prince to rein it in the snow would envelope and embrace the world, in a cold, sterile hug destined to last for centuries. I wonder what's so important in the south that he would risk the world for it?

The Snow Prince
Cinderella pushed her coffee away. Little cubes of ice clinked in the cup, even as the steam from the hot (but rapidly cooling) liquid condensed above it. "I don't like ice in my coffee," she said.
"I'm surprised you even like coffee," said her fairy godmother, who was sitting opposite her. "When I first saw this hovel of a world that you're living in I was pretty certain you'd be drinking milk or beer and living with the constant threat of dysentry. I wasn't entirely certain that you wouldn't prefer sleeping with the animals, truth be told."
Cinderella glanced reflexively at the door to the royal apartment, where the Prince was still sleeping, and her fingers ran over thin scratches on her arms. "I think I might still be sleeping wtih an animal," she said, her grin too knowing for her youthful face. Her fairy godmother smirked. "But I'm not so sure that this world is that much of an improvement on mine own. Sure, there's coffee, tiramisu and contraception –" she stumbled slightly over the unfamilar word "– but pollution here is more subtle that just not dumping pigshit in the water supply, I don't much like cars, and everyone wants everything done yesterday and they'd still complain if you gave it to them."
The fairy godmother nodded. "Nowhere's perfect, dear," she said. "But this is better than a lot of the options. There's a surprising shortage of princes these days. I'm looking into the option of farming them, but that takes infrastructure and people; it's not cheap. Anyway, how's Prince Snow otherwise?"
Little lines creased around Cinderella's eyes as she thought about him, and a small smile tweaked her lips. "I like him," she said. "We'll see about love, but he's off to a good start. Though..."
"What?"
"I wish he didn't make all my shoes out of ice. I can't feel my toes any more!"

Marc said...

Ivy - thanks, glad you liked it!

Holy goodness, that was excellent. I could see that sparking a full length novel. I mean, obviously, this is great on its own, but the possibilities for intriguing expansion...

Bravo!

Greg - yeah, there wasn't nearly enough snow for that. Maybe today, though...

I too am curious as to what's going on in mine. Perhaps I shall return to it and find out!

Hah, I've always enjoyed your twists on tales like this and here's another one for me to treasure. The relationship you've created between Cinderella and her fairy godmother is fascinating to me and I'd be thrilled to see more snippets from them!