Ahh, boys, I remember it like it was yesterday. In fact, it was yesterday. I was swirling down from the clouds to land somewhere in the North Georgia mountains, when it happened. I very nearly touched another snowflake.
Gorgeous, she was, although also possibly a he because, to be honest, I can’t really tell. But gorgeous he or she was all the same, because I nearly touched him. Or her. I nearly touched it.
What must it be like, to feel my pokey ice arms twine and clatter against the pokey arms of another, whose shape is broadly similar to, although very different from, my own? I will never know.
I am melting now, boys, but do not cry for me. Maybe next time I will be born as a snowflake somewhere that gets actual snow. My only comfort — *cough* — in my last moments… is that moms… bought a shitload of bread and milk because of me.