still working at it...

Chapter 1

When have four years already passed? This is what Amy asks herself every day. So, the daily schedule would be: wake up early in the morning, attend courses, go home, work, sleep. 

It was a cold winter morning, the wind was fierce and she had to wake up early to deliver some an essay at college. Her dreams were fuzzy, something about being in a magical golden forest. The alarm went on, with the same hideous song, which almost tormented her every morning. At first, it seemed to her that the song was a part of the dream… yet the images were distorted by that awful screeching sound. All the golden beauty got dissolved in a terrible headache  caused by the early wake-up.  But she wanted to hard to sleep and return to her magical place…. But the alarm said no.

She heavily opened her  eyes, and saw that her room was still dark. She forced herself off the bed, dragging herself to the kitchen to start the coffee machine. Oh, that smell! The heavenly scent of steaming coffee is probably the best part of an early morning. The fractures of the dream were slowly passing into the land of oblivion. For the first time during that winter, the sky  bleached, foretelling the snow. Amy looked through the window. Ignoring her sleepy reflection she saw a perfect view. All was white with black stains, like a movie black and white. The only pixels of color belonged to the fragile red lights of the cars. A crow was crossing the sky. It was like an arrow hurting the perfection of the flawless sky. One minute later the sky was invaded with chaotic groups of crows. Their screams were disturbing the morning serenity, so the clouds started crying violently with angry huge snowflakes.  The blizzard was doing a dance of death, beautiful, tragic and dangerous at the same time. It wiped everything in its way, leaving behind virgin white surfaces… It almost washed away the shame of the night…

Her soul trembled in the rhythm of that terrible dance. How special it feels to understand when nature speaks the same language as you do, and no one else would understand it… Amy wished she could produce a blizzard of her own, one that could wash away her torment; one that could leave her pure and untouched on the inside. But those crows were so loud… their awful mourning distorted any trace of serenity. It sounded like they were hit by a sudden unexplainable madness, as if some wicked sound disturbed them deeply too. To Amy’s surprise, they were also packed in groups of thousands, which moved like a single individual. Funny how such small creatures act like the cells of an entire body, flying simultaneously, managing to express something big.

Watching them flying in a chaotic beautiful dance, Amy started thinking about her future. Oh! The uncertainty was killing her slowly! It almost felt surreal… how other living things could express so well what she felt: a terrible cry of despair and restlessness. Suddenly, one of the crows hit the window and fell dead. She was still trying to wake up from her thoughts and figure out what had just happened. The bird was as stiff as a piece of wood, as well as Amy. It died so quickly like most of her dreams. It is sad how fragile life is, and how easily we can be crushed by trivial things.

*Beep Beep Beep*! It was the familiar sound of the alarm clock again. Amy swore, turned it off and went back at the window, staring at the dead crow. It was a sort of fascination to her: its perfection, its frailty, its peacefulness. A tear was quickly shed from her left eye directly on the beak of the creature. It froze instantly, looking more like a diamond now. It decorated so well the inert black beak. Staring bleak at that still image, she startled when the alarm went off again. Apparently it was for real this time. She was actually a little bit late for school. Getting a quick dizziness from standing up so suddenly, she rushed to her closet, picking up the first clothes that came to hand, grabbed her backpack and rushed out. It was like in a frozen hell. It was snowing, but that snow did not shelter any tranquility; it was violently freezing and hurting anything it touched. Awkwardly enough, there were groups of crows flying randomly above the cold buildings. Their screams reminded her of the dreams she had just had and her heart started bumping like mad, when remembering the whole dream.  Yet, she tried to ignore the event, moving on through the terrible day that was to come.

And still… somewhere through the clouds, there was a ray of light, so frail and scared, that one could easily miss it.