Heidi Matteson
Well-Known Member
- Messages
- 109
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
December 25th.
Crisp white snow flaked down in swirling icy drifts, settling itself upon the ground of the world below. The rooftops shimmered in the Winter's morning gloom, frosted windows providing privacy for curtain-less rooms. The world outside was a silent plume of glittering frozen water. It lay there, silent and undisturbed for many an hour, until the first of the virgin snow was breached by the heavy tread of the postman.
Inside the Moon-stead Residential Accommodation, lights began to flicker on. One by one, the residents came to wake. In whispered voices and slippered feet they shuffled and shifted silently through their apartments, readying themselves for the dawn of a fresh new day. Some had already peered eagerly through the glass panes at the world outside, their hearts responding as those of a child. Many were excited by the beautiful sight of unscathed snow, some even so desperate to be the first to taint its surface that they slipped their overcoats over the top of their pyjamas and hurried from their rooms to see it.
In apartment forty-six of the Rose wing, a child stirred from the depths of her slumber. She had experienced only three Christmas days prior to the which now nestled in the lap of the post-midnight world, and only one of those had she any vague memory of. She knew it must have happened, and that Christmas days must have come the years previous to this one, for she still had her pictures of snowmen flying through the night, and the cards which she had made for those whose dwellings resided within the walls of Moon-stead, still displayed the cards proudly upon shelves and television sets.
Most of the residents enjoyed having a child about the place; they felt the lively young child gave off an air of youth and playfulness which so many felt they had lost, or suffered sufficiently enough that they were to miss out on witness the growth of their own grandchildren, great-nieces, and nephews. Heidi certainly brought a lively nature to Moon-stead.
2031
2032
2033
2034
December 25th.
Crisp white snow flaked down in swirling icy drifts, settling itself upon the ground of the world below. The rooftops shimmered in the Winter's morning gloom, frosted windows providing privacy for curtain-less rooms. The world outside was a silent plume of glittering frozen water. It lay there, silent and undisturbed for many an hour, until the first of the virgin snow was breached by the heavy tread of the postman.
Inside the Moon-stead Residential Accommodation, lights began to flicker on. One by one, the residents came to wake. In whispered voices and slippered feet they shuffled and shifted silently through their apartments, readying themselves for the dawn of a fresh new day. Some had already peered eagerly through the glass panes at the world outside, their hearts responding as those of a child. Many were excited by the beautiful sight of unscathed snow, some even so desperate to be the first to taint its surface that they slipped their overcoats over the top of their pyjamas and hurried from their rooms to see it.
In apartment forty-six of the Rose wing, a child stirred from the depths of her slumber. She had experienced only three Christmas days prior to the which now nestled in the lap of the post-midnight world, and only one of those had she any vague memory of. She knew it must have happened, and that Christmas days must have come the years previous to this one, for she still had her pictures of snowmen flying through the night, and the cards which she had made for those whose dwellings resided within the walls of Moon-stead, still displayed the cards proudly upon shelves and television sets.
Most of the residents enjoyed having a child about the place; they felt the lively young child gave off an air of youth and playfulness which so many felt they had lost, or suffered sufficiently enough that they were to miss out on witness the growth of their own grandchildren, great-nieces, and nephews. Heidi certainly brought a lively nature to Moon-stead.