Flurries On The Wind


Photo: Julian Berengar Sölter on Unsplash


She twisted the frayed bit of tissue between her fingers. Tightening and unfurling, tightening and unfurling. Miniature white dots fleeted down onto her black-slacked knees like flurries on the wind.

He shook his head to clear it from the mesmerizing effect of the movement and its impact.

“Say more,” he prompted, hoping his voice would break the trance and end her silence.

She shrugged. Flurries turned a momentary snowstorm and she shuddered, brushed the flecks of tissue off her lap and raised her eyes to someplace between her counselor’s brow and the wall.

“I don’t know why I was surprised every time love started or ended,” she whispered.

He nodded his encouragement. This was more than she’d said in the last two sessions put together.

“I should have known,” her voice turned bitter, “that none of it would last. That he would leave. Again.”



For the dVerse prosery challenge: surprised or not

Quote used: “I don’t know why I was surprised every time love started or ended.” (Jane Hirshfield’s poem, “I wanted to be surprised.” You can read the full poem here.)


22 thoughts on “Flurries On The Wind

  1. You built the tension so well from the start, Na’ama, with the twisting of the frayed bit of tissue, the repetition of ‘tightening and unfurling’, and the close detail of the white dots that ‘fleeted down onto her black-slacked knees like flurries on the wind’. I like the way you built in the surprise setting of a counselling session.

    Liked by 1 person

    • I’m so glad you liked it!
      And …. yes to the synchronicity of using the same theme, in a sense. It is amazing how much we CAN be ‘of one mind’ especially when so many of us are tuned into the same ‘wavelengths’ as it is these days. 🙂 Na’ama

      Liked by 1 person

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