Written 1997, this story was set then also; but I have jumped it forward six years to 2003 for this submission. Hopefully this does not cause any errors I have missed in editing it?
Mid July 2003
The handsome light-chocolate coloured man and the tall willowy brunette walked hand-in-hand through the sweet-smelling forest of pines, wattles, and eucalyptus trees. Although they were less than a kilometre from the town of Pettiwood, they seemed to be deep in a tropical rainforest. Red, blue, yellow, and violets Native Australian flowers abounded in a riot of colour amid the more sedate greens and whites of the trees.
“Mmmm smell that sweet, fresh air,” said Geraldine Gleeson, breathing in deeply.
“Yes,” agreed Joseph Garbarla. However, he was more enamoured of the woman he was with, than with Mother Nature.
As they walked along, Garbarla slipped his left hand into his jeans pocket. Feeling the small, velveteen box, he wondered if this was the right moment to offer her the diamond ring? Or whether he should wait until they were back at her flat making love?
Before he had a chance to decide, Geraldine squealed and slipped her hand from his to race ahead of him in the forest.
“What’s the matter?” asked Garbarla, startled.
“Snow!” She stopped by a large mound of white lying beneath a sprawling willow tree.
“Don’t be silly,” said Garbarla. He didn’t know whether to feel pleased or dismayed that the chance to propose was lost. “It never snows in Victoria except in the highest alpine regions.”
“It’s snow!” insisted Geraldine. To prove her point, she grabbed two large handfuls and compressed them tightly into a snowball. Then squealing again in delight, she span round and threw the snowball at him.
“What…?” said Garbarla. Too surprised to duck, he was hit full in the face by the snowball. “My God, you’re right,” he scraped the snow off his face, “it is snow. Yet it can’t be.”
“Come over here, there’s lots more,” cried Geraldine. She pointed toward the long, rectangular mound, half a metre high, beneath the willow tree.
“But it never gets cold enough in lowland Victoria…” he protested. Yet as he spoke his cheeks began to blush and seeing his breath steaming he realised how inexplicably cold it had become in that part of the forest.
Currently there are no comments related to "Woo". You have a special honor to be the first commenter. Thanks!
Welcome to Authspot, the spot for creative writing.
Read some stories and poems, and be sure to subscribe to our feed!