I was where I am when the snow began, on a lonely path across a field. The silence of snow is like no other, which is why I stood still, enjoying the gentle whisper of the first flakes. The snow grew heavier and the field soon disappeared under its blanket.
I started to walk again, my boots sinking into white, leaving black holes in a meandering track behind me. The path was gone. I tugged my hat down further over my ears, pulled up my collar and tightened my scarf. Scanning the landscape, I could see no landmarks, no clues as to where I was, which direction led to home.
I am where I was when the snow began, cruel snow that landed on my lashes, burned my fingers and slid down my neck, in the middle of a field on a lonely path.
Kim M. Russell, 4th December 2023

Image by RK on Unsplash
This Monday Merril is our host for Prosery at the dVerse Poets Pub. She says that, ‘since it is December and winter in the Northern Hemisphere’ she though she’d pull a line from a winter poem. It’s from ‘The Dead of Winter’ by Samuel Menashe:
“I was where I am
When the snow began”
I had not heard of Samuel Menashe, so I was interested to read about him, and that he published only a few volumes of poetry, which were ‘highly regarded by critics, who admired his tight wording and concise poems’, something we also like at dVerse. So we are including Menashe’s words in a piece of flash-fiction or creative non-fiction, but not poetry, which is no longer than 144 words in total (not including the title).
The process of the snow building from the lightness and joy to a burden and (maybe) a grave is so very chilling.
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Turning into a snowman.
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Thank you for this evocative piece, Kim. “The silence of snow is like no other” is so true. I don’t know why that is.
I like how this begins as a serene piece before the snow turns cruel and perhaps frightening.
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Thanks Merril.
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You’re welcome, Kim!
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That’s my favorite line too! 😀
This is great, Kim.
~David
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Thanks David!
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Wow. Pretty bleak. I hope there’s a happy ending but the circular ending seems to leave that very much up in the air. So well done, Kim.
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Thank you, Dora!
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What a soundless cruel snowfall. Bravo!!!
Much♡love
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Thank you, Gillena, and much love. ❤
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Sounds like you are lost… going in circles. Hope you find your way home.
Love the snowman.
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Thanks Dwight!
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You are welcome.
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Simple and very powerful!
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Thanks Kim!
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Oooo, the life of a snowman methinks! Or of some lost soul. Enjoyed your write Kim, very much.
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Thanks Carol!
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What a vivid picture you have painted with your words! I love the voice of the snowman.
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Thank you, Mary. That snowman was me as a child. A group of older children pelted my five year old self with snow on the way home from school. My mother was shocked when she found me with blue lips, covered in snow.
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Cruel snow is a great title. I can’t help but feel that it really isn’t the snow’s fault where this person (snowperson?) finds themself. Wonderful prosery, Kim.
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Thank you, Lisa.
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You’re welcome.
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A chilling and unique story. It makes me appreciate the dangers of snow, when mostly due to inexperience I think of it as magical. Great story.
Actually I was watching a video yesterday about the first snow in Glasgow and all the little snow people dotted everywhere, sitting on park benches etc…It so appealed to the child in me.
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I don’t like snow and will be glad when winter is over.
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A chilling, yet oh so beautiful, piece, Kim. I do love snow!
I am not a skier either. It’s the experience of it and you described it wonderfully!
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Thank you, Susan!
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Wonderful write! I love that we went in opposite directions and have to agree with you that the silence in snow is very particular. I, for one, love that.
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Thank you, Dale.
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😊
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I was your willing companion on that walk, we held hands all the way. Great prose, Kim.
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Thanks for the hand, Helen!
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I like how you inverted the prompt line at the end ‘I am where I was’ makes so much more sense to me.
Another one who hates snow 🙂
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Thank you, Jane! 😊
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A sad piece. I read it as an allegory of sorts. Life can be like this often. Excellent writing.
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Thanks for reading and commenting.
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I enjoyed hearing this Kim, I particularly like this because it is – for me – a poem to feel. A sense of adventure but also foreboding – the path that disappears (and which I took th epoem to be a metaphor for life’s journey).
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Thank you, Paul.
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My pleasure indeed 🙂
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