elf ice, 23rd January 2017

awaking upon an equally frozen morning as the night from which sleep was sought our hero wraps his makeshift bed higher around his shoulders squeezing as much warmth from the appropriate disarray of duvets, sheets, pillows….. while winter attempts to breach his defences defiantly not moving nought but his eyes in initially assessing the day  in the lightless rooms of his cold cottage farm…..

letting his mind return to a yesterday-moment on seeing a sign, the sign read, “elf ice”…… on which he puzzled and puzzled and puzzled some more as to what elf ice may be.. or may not be…. having slept on it as most things he’s told resolve on a nights sleep (except why the new president of the US of A is the president of the US of A… and if he had his way, the world!… our hero winced) what did become clearer was ‘elf ice’…. eureka!…. he shouted, in his head not wishing to let on he was awake…… our hero concluded after all other conclusions he concluded between then and now were discarded as the possible ramblings of a madman that it must be a kind of ‘snow‘ that isn’t snow but elf ice…… the kind you find littered across the grass looking to all intents like snow but snow that just couldn’t be bothered to commit to actually being snow, instead merely just scatter a few half-hearted attempts at snow across the tufts to leave pockmarks of white amidst the green…… a snow that merely disappoints than excites providing nowhere near enough to even make a snowant never mind a snowman……

instead of falling from snow clouds it’s the elves who mischievously run around a garden while you sleep scattering faux-snow  hither and thither (two good elf names I’d say) that they’ve made from their tummy-button fluff (as elf button-fluff is white for reasons not known to our hero)…. mischievously because they do it to fool us into moods of disappointment, which for some reason makes them gleeful, at seeing snow that is just not snowy enough to even make a snowant never mind a snowman…..


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