The Walk Home

The first thing I notice when I step out of the house is the snow glittering like diamonds on every imaginable surface. I am not wearing my glasses, and although it is near two am in the morning, I have to squint to see properly. Fumbling for my house keys in my new bag, I see the beauty everywhere. Many people think it might be impossible to notice such things on a side street of Millwoods before the morning light has ceased to break through the clouds, but I know differently. Some houses still have their Christmas lights turned on, and the reds yellows blues and greens form small pinpricks of colour on the snow. Not a sound is heard except for my feet crunching softly on the snow, no sirens pierce the night air, no cats meow, no birds whistle. I know I've broken curfew, so I quicken my pace, breaking into a run after a while. When I see the intersecting street, I slow down, knowing it will be icy. The first night I slipped there, and I don't wish to repeat it. More glittering particles sparkle up at me from the asphalt as I turn the corner, now walking slowly. No cars are out at this time of the morning, so I walk down the middle of the road, cautiously awaiting the sound of a passing vehicle. I glance up at the sky and notice its odd color, a mix between charcoal, blue, and indigo. No stars are visible tonight, nor are any clouds. The moon glows softly down at me, although the sky appears as if morning is about to break through its surface like a diver waiting to plunge underwater. I know this is impossible, as it is nowhere near sunrise, but for an instant this does not matter. Finally, I reach my driveway, although it has only taken two minutes, I feel like I have been thinking for two hours. Slowly I walk up my driveway, nervous that my mother is still awake although I know this is doubtful. My keys open the locks without any trouble, and I tiptoe downstairs so as not to wake anyone. Before turning on the lights, I stop for a moment, and let the feeling envelop me. Merriam Webster, my trusty online dictionary confirms it is contentment. I think I agree.