Snow

At first, she liked the snow. The way it covered the barren courtyard in a pristine layer of white. It was beautiful. On very cold days, when it was especially sparkly, she could even imagine it was her own field of diamonds.

Sometimes there were tracks, though she never saw a soul. She spent hours making up stories to go with the billowy trails. This one was a lord, sneaking through the dark of night to see his lady. This one was that same lady off on a midnight shopping spree. This one, the one that only made it half way to her window, was a kindly guard stopped on the verge of rescuing her.

But as winter wore on and on and the snow piled higher and higher, she began to hate the stark white courtyard. She longed for just a peep of green. Something to break up the bleak landscape.

Then one day she spotted it. Along the north wall, the one with the most sun, a tiny green shoot. It took her several days to realize it was actually there. But it was.

Each day the shoot peeked a little higher out of the snow. Leaves fell away from the main stalk. The tip swelled as the bloom matured. Each day she stared for hours, hoping and praying for the little bud to open.

A hard knock on the door woke her from a light, cold sleep. Two guards pushed into the room and pulled her from her bed. Their hands were rough and firm through the thin material of her nightgown as they took hold of her arms and started to drag her toward the door.

“Wait, please,” she begged. “The little flower in the courtyard. Please, let me look one last time. It is open. I prayed it would open. I must be open.”

“It’s dark,” the smaller guard mumbled.

“Please. Just a moment. Then I will go with you.”

But the larger guard just pulled her forward.

“No,” she cried. Wrenching her neck, she looked back at the night-dark window.

In the crisp February morning, the smaller guard crunched through the snow of the small courtyard. He found the solitary flower, standing tall against the north wall. A perfect yellow daffodil. It had bloomed. Just not in time.

With a quick tug, he beheaded the flower. He would place it on her grave when no one was looking.