The snow of summer
It was the coldest snow in the last 100 years. Vanessa is looking out of the window, at the paper-white roses. The only thought that came to her sleepy mind is how well they suited the view.White roses, white snow. The only thing that looked out of place was dark green grass that could be seen here and there: buried under the snowy pillow.It took a while for the sleepy mind to catch up — the snow is the actual stranger. It is summer. It isn't natural for the snow to be here–this snow sparkling under the hot summer sun.
But it wasn't the strangest thing about that snow. It was about 30° Celsius outside, and still snow remained and didn't even seem to start melting. Vanessa opened the window. Touched the snow on the closest rose. Cold. Freezing even. It was't the coldness you'd expect from snow; it was ice-cold. Like when you try to melt an ice cube in your hand: too cold to bear holding it for long. Unsure, Vanessa took her hand back in the warmth of the room.
Scared and confused, she closed the window, and another strange thing caught her attention. What she heard was so quiet that it took some time for Vanessa to understand that she actually heard it. Christmas carols. Sung in thousands of shrill voices. That singing was enthralling; it made blood in her veins become nearly as cold as the snow outside. It seemed that the voices were coming from the kitchen downstairs. In pajamas, as she had only woken up, she hurried down the crooked staircase.
In the middle of the kitchen, right through the dining table, grew an enormously big Christmas tree.Moreover, it was fully decorated: lights shined, leaving the whole room with colorful spots, ruby-red baubles looking like they were filled with blood. Vanessa stared in disbelief. Christmas carols, gradually becoming louder and louder, now reached their highest note. The whole world turned black forVanessa as she passed out.
Slowly, almost as if time itself was curious about her lifeless body and had stopped to look, three hours had passed.She was lying unconscious on the cold kitchen floor. Yet another victim of theCruel Christmas Spirit.
The town is bathed in sunshine
The town is bathed in sunshine
We all go on different streets
Some fly with an airline
Some on their bare feet
All the world is bathed in sunshine
But shadows are still near
And when you try to hide
Those shadows are already here
Your street is bathed in sunshine
But shadows are still here
They're drawing a red line
While we're trying make them leave
The grass is bathed in sunshine
But our grass is red
We're standing in the front line
Fighting evil bad
We are not bathed in sunshine
But I indeed believe
That our sun will shine
And shadows gonna leave
The lost spring
The page is full of words and letters
My head is full of fear and errors
I turn the page just not to face the truth
That everybody tries to soothe
The book is full of thoughts and dreams
You know I'm not as calm as it seems
The dust in my nose, the dust in my head
But it's not that bad, we all could be dead
The other book is full of the escape and shelter
All people try to find some safety and a helper
The characters of today's book try to find the truth
But everything is dark, nobody helps the youth
The words are full of sense and joy
All around is dread and people who annoy
Magic in the book won't come to reality
My mind starts to float like there is no gravity
The textbook is full of terms and dates
Why would I care now what the book illustrates
The park is so calm and the church full of sun
Someday here on my land again will be fun
Anna Brosalina writes short stories to escape reality and poetry to make sense of it. She has a bad habit of falling in love with nearly everything she does and that leads her to having too many hobbies. She creates art, both digital and traditional, is passionate aboutSTEM, reads books and writes about them. The work published here was written during the hardest two months of her life. It was the time of the invasion of her country. She is a sixteen year old from Kyiv oblast’, Ukraine, who also loves Carpathians, her cat and rainy weather.
