Write a scene about the first snowfall of the year in your city. (If you don’t get snow, use your imagination.) How does it change the landscape? The feel of the air? The sounds?
I left Pilates class in a bit of a hurry, grabbed my things, and headed out. I’ve got 15 minutes before Monoprix closes, the fridge is empty, and I’m starving. I reach for the door handle. “Bye, thanks for today’s class.” I close the door behind me. I should probably have a list in mind to be as efficient as possible in the shop. Right, hummus? The strap of my bag slips off my shoulder as I walk towards the exit. I pull it back up, setting it close to my neck so it stays put. With some soup, maybe? I zip up my coat against the wind. But then I’ll need sticks or carrots to go with the hummus, stairs, stairs, stairs, jogging down them to save time. Hop, squeezed through the gap as the door was closing. Okay, allons-y. I scan the path ahead, planning my movements. I’m craving chocolate cake. “Sorry,” I almost bump into someone. I glance back, but he’s already far away. He could at least pretend to care. I don’t know, does he think he’s alone in all of Aix-en-Provence? I look ahead again. Ouhhhh, a croque-monsieur! I tuck my nose into my coat, damn it’s cold. A small cold drop lands on my nose, then another on my cheek. Is it raining? The sky is grey, the contrast too low to tell. I look for a darker shade to answer my question. I turn left. I could walk this route home blindfolded. I squint, slow my pace, and then I see it. It’s snowing. It’s snowing in Aix in mid-March. I follow a snowflake with my eyes as it drifts towards the pavement, vanishing the moment it brushes the ground. I breathe in. The cold tickles my nostrils, and I twitch my nose. No one is around, no students rushing past, no dogs barking, only the soft fall of snow. I breathe out. I descend the stairs of the shortcut I took. The tap of my footsteps on the stone-paved street falls in unison with the pitter-patter in my ears. I check the time, oups, too late.

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