Mud

I fell into a puddle of mud. 

I didn’t mean to slip, of course. But as I watched you through my dirt-clumped bangs, laughing until tears leaked out of the corners of your eyes, I thought that maybe, maybe it was worth it. We had just been walking on the sidewalk, drizzled by the remnants of the downpour from earlier. The little droplets stuck to our clothes and hair, twinkling in the mist. The wind spread a chill through the air, but leaning against you as I walked, the stinging cold seemed to subside. 

“It’s getting colder earlier this year,” you remarked. 

I nodded, silently staring up at the swirling gray clouds. The patterns mimicked those of the brightly colored charts we had studied in class. “The polar vortex has been expanding further and more frequently. That’s what they said, anyway.” 

Suddenly, you stumbled, hand grasping onto my shoulder tightly. As you stabilized yourself, we both looked down at the ground. The rain had pooled on the dimples in the ground, freezing over in the subzero temperature. 

You looked over at me, eyes as glassy as the ice you had just slipped on. “Sorry.” 

“Let’s walk on the grass,” I suggested. 

The dirt crunched under our feet. Frozen flowers snapped as our soles trod over their stems. You kept staring down at the ground, at the broken petals, that blank look still in your eyes. I wanted to say something, but there was nothing I could say. Not for this. 

The wind picked up again, a high pitched whistling accompanying the bitter gale. The dandelions that had not yet frozen bent in the wind, white fluff whisked off into the sky. We stood there, hunched in on ourselves as the cold slammed onto our skin. 

As the gust died down, I stared at the seeds, sitting on top of the frozen soil. I could see you looking at them too. 

“They’ll never take root, will they?” you murmured. “They can’t break through the frost. They’ll die before their life even has a chance to begin.”

The dampness seeped into the white pappi, cloudy ice creeping over the hairs. It always ended like this, didn’t it? There was no way to get away. How could we ever escape something that enveloped everything? Slowly, I walked back towards the sidewalk, the raindrops sinking into my clothes and sticking against my skin. I pulled my jacket tighter around myself, shivering violently. It was cold— so cold— And then I tripped. 

I yelped as my foot slid out from under me, and my elbow cracked a layer of ice, splashing up cold wetness. I spat out the foul tasting earth, tears washing out the grit under my eyelids. I heard you squawk in surprise, then, a muffled chuckle. As you trotted over, I sat up sheepishly, wiping my face with my sleeve. Blinking the muddiness from my eyes, I saw that the side of your leg was also covered in the sludge. 

Your cackles echoed through the empty streets. “How—” you wheezed, “how— how did it even splash that far?” 

Watching you laugh, bent over and barely able to catch your breath, a snicker also escaped from my lips. I tried to push myself up, but my hand slipped, and I fell into the mud again, dirtying whatever areas that had been spared the first time. My snicker turned into a full guffaw, and I tried again, and again, to pick myself up as my body shook with laughter, to no avail. 

Giggling quietly, you held out your hand to me. Your clean, soft hand. I took it, smearing my mud on your skin. You pulled me up, the silt dripping down your sleeve. Getting back on my feet, I pulled my hand away, trying to brush the sludge off of myself. As I leaned over, I felt the weight of your body press against mine. 

I looked up, trying to protest, but you just shushed me, a bright smile on your face. Your eyes met mine, and you had an expression that said we’re in this together, aren’t we? 

Between raindrops, a fleck of white landed in your hair. Then another. Then more, and more, until the drizzle had fully turned into a curtain of snow. I felt our clothes begin to crunch as the mud solidified into chunks of brown ice, but I wasn’t shivering. Neither were you, as you nestled closer to me. Under the cloudy skies, in this world of ice — you felt so warm.