First snow today. Or so I am told. Facebook friends told me, either by way of whining post or exalting post. The mobile Weather Channel told me, with a background like cotton balls falling behind a pane of glass. It still looked like sleet to me, but we ran out just in case.
Ruby wasn’t sure why I had pulled her into the cold and wet; she turned in circles upon the grass before stopping to cock her head at me.
I looked to the arms of my jacket, now spotted with dark beads. Each one shone and hung heavily for a moment before disappearing against the fabric, as if I were stuck all over with melting candy buttons.
The grass and the trees were merely dripping; no dusting of white betrayed snow. Even the roof, surely cold enough to hold flakes, was merely a soggy brown.
We went inside, Ruby running ahead so that she could turn in the living room to look back at me wryly. Is all the fuss over, then? She asked, before moving to make sure her stuffed skunk was just where she had left it.