A Winter Walk

On that winter night, the car contained Mrs. Sharp, a single mother, and her five children. Her eldest son was driving, with her in the passenger seat reading aloud the stories she had written for them. How they adored her and her stories.  Her son was so caught up in the adventure story being recited by his mother that he didn’t notice the bridge ahead was not only icy but not a through bridge.  The breaks were no use and they slid off into the icy river below.  They were able to escape out of the car and river but they could not all escape death that cold night. The only survivor was Mrs. Sharp.  During this night she saw a divine event.  The souls of her children floated up from their bodies, just as the snowflakes floated down, and into the nearest open vessels. Due to the winter season, the trees’ souls vacated their bodies and the children allowed the skeletons left behind from the trees to envelop their souls.  Mrs. Sharp limped over to a near-by house to plead for shelter only to realize the house was just as vacant as the trees. That is where she lived a long life close to her children. And each year on the anniversary of the crash she would go out with a basket full of new stories to read to her children and they would be able to release themselves from their wooden enclosures for this one night and glide towards their loving mother. Even in her later years she made the winter walk with the cold biting at her from the inside out in order to read to her sweet children. She eventually died on the 50^th anniversary of the crash.