Winter love story
A gust of cold wind blew in through the half-open door, making me shiver. But I couldn’t care less at that moment; my anger propelled me out the door, and the loud slam of it vented some of my discontent.
My wife and I had just had a fight. Snowflakes were swirling in the evening sky, mirroring my stormy mood.
It wasn’t a big issue, but my wife kept pressing the matter, escalating it further. I had to avoid her wrath, so I stepped into this snow-covered world.
I decided to find a small tavern to drink away my frustrations, but the snow was as thick as wool, and the wide street now resembled the deserted night alleys of my hometown, with hardly any pedestrians.
I wandered aimlessly down the empty street.
My wife and I have rarely fought in our many years of marriage. However, since a major earthquake, our tempers have noticeably worsened. Today, a trivial issue led to a fierce argument. I wanted to keep the peace, but my wife’s anger was blazing, and storming out was my only choice.
Occasionally, a car would pass by on the dimly lit street, moving sluggishly as if the driver was also in a foul mood. The snow intensified, the night grew heavier, and the streetlights seemed feeble and helpless in the snowy landscape.
In this setting, I saw a freight tricycle coming toward me.
The rider was a man, dressed warmly against the heavy snow. I couldn’t see his face clearly, but the woman sitting behind him was unmistakable. Her red floral jacket stood out vividly under the streetlights in the snowy night.
Perhaps the road was too slippery or the load too heavy, but I saw the man nearly leaning onto the handlebars. He leaned forward, pedaling slowly. Ahead was a small uphill stretch, and the man zigzagged, struggling to move forward. Then I noticed an extra pair of hands covering the man’s ears, clearly those of the woman behind him. As the tricycle passed me, I saw the hands gently rubbing his ears.
A wave of warmth surged through me, filling me with an indescribable emotion.
I found myself following them involuntarily.
The steeper the slope, the slower the tricycle moved. The man bent even lower, his breath forming a white column in front of him, fading in and out. The woman leaned her body closer, her hands still firmly covering his ears. Her waist was exposed to the snowy wilderness, but her hands never left his ears, not even to adjust her clothes.
Once past the slope, they reached a flat stretch of road. The man and woman became a beautiful sight in the snowy landscape.
I kept following them, not knowing how far I had walked.
Finally, the man stopped the tricycle by the roadside, near a row of low houses. I realized this was a temporary housing area built after the earthquake for the displaced residents.
The man parked the tricycle and helped the woman off. He took a crutch from the tricycle and handed it to the woman. It was then that I noticed the woman had only one leg! Her other leg was missing from below the knee. As she stumbled on the slippery road, nearly falling, the man quickly reached out his right hand to catch her. She grabbed onto him, and it was only then that I saw the man had only one hand! His left sleeve hung empty, fluttering when the woman grabbed hold.
I felt as if I were suffocating! I watched as the man supported the woman, tucking one of her hands under his arm. Leaning on him, they slowly walked toward the temporary housing.
I looked up at the sky; the snow was falling even more heavily. I stood there, letting the snowflakes fall on my face.
After a long while, I turned and quickened my pace, heading home. I needed to tell my wife everything I had just witnessed.
I thought, by the time I finished telling this story, the snow would have stopped…
Thank you for reading! ” Sitestorys “
