Cherries in the Snow

(All parts will appear here and continue weekly. Just scroll to each part)

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 49.15 – Psychic
Hard Bonus: Use a lyric from The Guess Who (I’d rather be alone)
Easy Bonus: Incorporate the word nefarious

*Photo is AI version of the author

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The Gypsy languished in her caravan, her dark eyes searching the crystal for answers, for hope. Since he left, things had dimmed not only on the outside but within as well. She could not speak into existence the haunting thought.
Had she lost her gift?

Was her second sight now a thing of the past?
Tears spilled onto the useless glass orb.
Once a portal to those other realms she held so dear.
She missed his wisdom, his magic and the way
they held the world in sync.

“I’d rather be alone.” she cried, “No one shall take his place.”
She leaned back into the crimson and scarlet pillows and stroked her black cat lovingly, “Oh Rue, what is a mystic to do with a darkened flame?”

The cat stared back at the crystal ball and hopped up on the divining table. Knocking loose a gold edged tarot card, that swirled like a feather to the floor. Face down, the Gypsy knew she had to turn it over. Kneeling upon her loose skirts she picked it up and dramatically placed it on the table.

The Hermit. Reversed the meaning was slightly nefarious, however the card was upright and glaring the truth. “Time for me to withdraw Rue, to seek from within.”

The cat purred and placed a paw on the now glowing crystal.
They both fixated on the energy emanating from the orb. Inside a dense fog was shifting crystals to ice, tiny exquisite snowflakes drifting top to bottom. The crystal ball was morphing into an ethereal snow globe before their eyes. Each snowflake piling to form a shimmering Snowman who was adorned in a floppy Wizard’s hat and cape of stars.

The Gypsy leaned toward the glass in amazement, “Who are you?” she whispered and inside her head a clear and present voice.

You can call me SNO.

“No W?”
The figure in the globe was still and silent but his words telepathic and playful.

Nah, no W. I’m iconic and in time all shall be revealed.

“Like my card, the Hermit.” she laughed.

Yes time to step back and listen to that inner wisdom.

“Are you my inner wisdom?”

I don’t think so, or I would be wearing a Hermit fit, not a Wizard.

“Yeah I love your hat and those stars on your cape, are they mirrors?”

Indeed, Mirrors are the path to true wisdom.

“I take it we are about to go down that path?”

Silence. A long palpable silence.

The Gypsy waited. Nothing. And Rue asleep in her lap did not move.
Her eyes wandered to the window and outside she noticed tiny silver drifts falling….”What? It’s Snowing?”

It would seem appropriate, only this was California and the month was June.

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Part Two

Ecrits Blogophilia Week 50.15 – Sage Advice
Hard Bonus: Incorporate a song title from Johnnie Mathis (Life is Just a Bowl of Cherries)
Easy Bonus: Run away from home (or include someone running away from home)

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The Gypsy gazed out the window in awe, Who would believe this? The sky dark and ominous sent a shiver down her spine.

Of course he was the first person she wanted to share all of this with. But she could not. So she went back to the Crystal and stared at that miniature SNO man.

“What exactly is going on here?”

Soon you won’t miss him so much. He will always be a part of you.

She shrugged, “Sure that is what they say.”

Listen, do you want my sage advice?

“I’m listening.”

The best things in life to you were just loaned so how can you lose what you never owned.

“That reminds me of a song.”

It is a song, the Sno Man began to sing,

Life is just a bowl of cherries
Don’t take it serious
Life’s too mysterious
Life is just a bowl of cherries
So live and laugh at it all

“Oh my God you are funny.”

Thanks. I think I have a message for you?

“Okay what is it?”

Not what. Who. Look out the window.

The Gypsy lifted the warm cat from her lap and went to the Caravan window. There standing in a field of snow was a small shadowy figure in a dark coat, it was a boy. He looked about seven or eight, but she could not see his face. Taking a shawl and a lantern she stepped out of her cozy abode into the cold night and called out, “Hello?”

The boy did not answer he was standing in front of something larger than himself. She trudged closer, her ballet flats sinking in the powder, chilling her feet.

“Hey!” she called again. “What are you doing out here? Have you run away from home?”

The boy stood back from the large snowy object, “Do you like it? I built him for you.” It was a life size version of the Crystal Ball SNO man. Wizard hat, starry cape, a crooked staff in his branch hand and those shiny mirrors blinding her now. The boy turned to face her, his smile as bright as the mirrors and his eyes wide, eyes she knew very well.

Tears began to stream down her face, “Daddy?”

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(to be continued)
Story written by Christine Wichman c. June 11, 2024
Conceptual guidance from SNO