avatarTre L. Loadholt

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Really?! Ugh.”</p><p id="a0a4">“No, baby girl. M-E-R-R-Y.”</p><p id="9aa8">“Ah. Okay. I like it.”</p><p id="c975">“Damn right, you do! Now, hurry! Take the picture!”</p><p id="06bd">Harold slid close to Merry, placed his arm around our snow-woman, and smiled the biggest smile I’d ever seen on him.</p><p id="1213">“Say cheese!”</p><p id="c855">“CHEESE!”</p><p id="fa08">Fifteen years later, I still remember that day as vividly as it occurred. Harold is a ball of energy— nothing can tear him away from the idea of happiness and he knows how to obtain it and share it with others. Whenever I want a dose of happiness during the overly-cold days and nights of winter, I pull up that photo, look at my brother Harold and our snow(o)man Merry, and I smile.</p><p id="ccc1">And as for Joey? Harold never built up the courage to ask him out, but he found his life-partner in a tall, dark, and handsome drink of “Yes, please!” named Mason. They build snow(o)men each year and send me a photo of their latest creation.</p><h2 id="4a4b">There’s nothing like good memories.</h2><p id="5dd1">©2021 Tremaine L. Loadholt</p><figure id="9b0a"><img src="https://cdn-images-1.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:800/1*ho0V5e25ZXWAQvYBYY-00w.png"><figcaption></figcaption></figure><h2 id="a2ad">This story is a response to Prism & Pen’s writing prompt, The Frosty Wars: Snowmen Amok” —</h2><div id="f605" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/the-frosty-wars-snowmen-amok-b9e8ebd31490"> <div> <div> <h2>The Frosty Wars: Snowmen Amok</h2> <div><h3>A Prism & Pen Writing Prompt</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div> <div style="background-image: url(https://miro.readmedium.com/v2/resize:fit:320/1*v8p8oju9-8MsULM_a9XZNQ.jpeg)"></div> </div> </div> </a> </div><h1 id="65e1">Other stories so far —</h1><div id="5c6b" class="link-block"> <a href="https://readmedium.com/a-winter-prayer-2157c5dbdba7"> <div> <div> <h2>A Winter Prayer</h2> <div><h3>A silly story about a snowman cult — at least that’s what it looked like to me — I accidently made one day after a big…</h3></div> <div><p>medium.com</p></div> </div> <div>

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The Sassy Snow(o)man

Flash Fiction

Photo via Pixabay

We dashed through the front door, bundled from head to toe. Our main focus was to build a snowman. My brother Harold was half brawn, half sassy. He had a maroon hat and scarf with which to dress up our little friend. The snow covered every inch of our front lawn. Speckled white ice. Inches upon inches of it.

The trees were breathing heavily, shivering from the morning wind. We stood in the middle of our yard, stuck out our tongues, and caught several flakes as they fell.

I smacked my lips loudly and Harold shot me a look that could pierce through my skin. I immediately silenced myself.

We rolled three mounds of snow into perfect balls, pushed them close to our fence, and stacked them one by one. Harold added the hat and scarf. I placed a pair of buttons on its face as eyes, a ruler for a nose, and two cherry Twizzlers as its mouth. He then slipped a set of cosmetic jewelry pearls over the scarf.

“Ooh, step back, honey. She is fierce!” my brother Harold said as soon as we were done.

“But it’s a snowman, Harold. He’s not a she.”

“Says who, baby girl? She is definitely flaunting all the goodness God gave her in that maroon hat and scarf, baby. She is definitely a she.”

“Whoever heard of a snow-woman, Harold?!”

“No one and that’s why this one is special.”

I couldn’t argue with that. She really was a good-looking snow-woman. I looked over at my brother and he was tapping his right hand on his right thigh, beaming with pride.

“We gotta take a picture of this beauty and Instagram it! Wait 'til Joey sees her! He’s gonna flip!”

Joey was my brother’s crush. They went to the same high school. Took almost all the same classes together. Sat two tables from one another during lunch. All of this and Joey barely knew Harold existed. Don’t tell Harold that, though.

“We’ve gotta name her, Harold. What should it be?”

“Merry.”

“Mary? Really?! Ugh.”

“No, baby girl. M-E-R-R-Y.”

“Ah. Okay. I like it.”

“Damn right, you do! Now, hurry! Take the picture!”

Harold slid close to Merry, placed his arm around our snow-woman, and smiled the biggest smile I’d ever seen on him.

“Say cheese!”

“CHEESE!”

Fifteen years later, I still remember that day as vividly as it occurred. Harold is a ball of energy— nothing can tear him away from the idea of happiness and he knows how to obtain it and share it with others. Whenever I want a dose of happiness during the overly-cold days and nights of winter, I pull up that photo, look at my brother Harold and our snow(o)man Merry, and I smile.

And as for Joey? Harold never built up the courage to ask him out, but he found his life-partner in a tall, dark, and handsome drink of “Yes, please!” named Mason. They build snow(o)men each year and send me a photo of their latest creation.

There’s nothing like good memories.

©2021 Tremaine L. Loadholt

This story is a response to Prism & Pen’s writing prompt, The Frosty Wars: Snowmen Amok” —

Other stories so far —

Fiction
Snowman
Winter
LGBTQ
Siblings
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