Last Snow

“Why’d you give me this name, anyway?” asked Last Snow.
“Your mother and I called you that because we brought you home in a snowstorm,” her father said.  “We figured it was the last one we’d ever see, and we were right.”
He smiled at her.  She smiled back.
“I heard there’s some rice left in Boston.  I’ll take the gun and head over.  You stay here, out of sight.”  He shaded his eyes and looked through the greenery at the empty street.
“It’s already New Year’s,” he said.  “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

———-

The world turns, the Fourier transform’s still on my wavelength, and I’ve got just enough sleep to walk around but not enough to boot up whatever scraps of intelligence I had previously. Anyway…Every Friday, writers from all around the world write 100 word (or thereabouts) flash fiction based on a photo posted that Wednesday on Rochelle Wisoff-Fields’ blog.

I welcome constructive criticism; without it I cannot grow as a writer.  The weekly photo that inspired this story is below:

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About glossarch

The word "glossarch" doesn't exist. At least, not yet. But let's pretend it does for a second. The first part is "gloss," a word that comes to us from Ancient Greek via Latin and English. It means "language." The second part also comes from Ancient Greek and can mean "having power over." So "glossarch" means simply "language controller." So what am I doing making up words? Well, I made up an entire language once. It's called Angosey. So I'm the Glossarch of Angosey. I'm currently a doctorate student in volcano seismology (a branch of geophysics). I enjoy writing fiction and poetry, launching balloons, programming, and hanging out with my lovely wife! Follow me on Twitter! Writing and language creation: @glossarch Balloons and science: @bovineaerospace
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12 Responses to Last Snow

  1. This is at once peaceful and disturbing. Well done.

  2. Dear Danny,

    Last snow? This sounds post apocalyptic.

    Be assured the sleep deprivation is temporary. The first few months are the hardest, but it does get better, I promise. Those tiny things that scream in the night grow up to become people. 😉

    Shalom,

    Rochelle

  3. The gentle start of the story contrasts so well with the post-apocalyptic story of winning some rice in Boston.

  4. liz young says:

    I love that you’ve invented a word, and Last Snow is a sweet name with a sad derivation.

  5. Where life seems to be heading…
    Randy

  6. Amy Reese says:

    Last Snow. I don’t think I would like that name. There’s something kind of final about it. Gee! It can’t be a good thing that the snow is gone, although continual greenery would not be a better alternative. Somehow, I’ve heard about this, read about it…oh, it’s happening, isn’t it?

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