Sitting here bundled up in coats and blankets I can see, through the window, trees glistening in the moonlight. Despite the beauty that it appeared to be outside, the last thing I wanted to do was venture out and walk amidst it with the crunching ice beneath my feet. I heard enough crunching and cracking without leaving the wad of blankets above me that I didn’t need to be out there.
It was as if the cracking and popping noises from outside were a soft overtone to a soundtrack in a movie, only it wasn’t a soothing overtone it was one that built up suspense. Every minute hoping it was only a small crack that was heard and not the large crash of a massive branch penetrating the house.
With no power to allow for music to drown out the outdoor noises the only defense I had left from the fear was my imagination. I clamped my eyes shut and tensed into a tighter ball under the layers of covers and clothes.
The cracking and popping was still there, but instead of filling the air with fear it filled the air with warmth and hospitality. Right in front of me were flames dancing to the beat of the crackling like miniature tap dancers dressed in red and orange. Every time a large crack would occur sparks would shoot up into adorning fireworks showcased within my cozy little fireplace.
No longer was I covered in blankets, but simply curled up on the couch soaking up the heat radiating from the fire. There I laid down my head and let the captivating flames finish the show before me as my eyelids bore down upon my eyes. Gradually my blinks were no longer blinks but quick dozes off to sleep, until eventually my eyes gave up staying awake to watch the tap dancing fire and let sleep fall upon me at last.
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