A Pocket Archive (25)

I stuck my tongue out and tilted my head towards the sky as I made my way past my old apartment building near the library. I'd missed wet spring snows like this almost as much as I missed being a student. My angel's hands clasped tightly around my neck, cutting off my airflow slightly whenever her her weight shifted and she giggled, imitating my behavior. I held on tightly to her calves so she wouldn't tumble onto the cement. Her snowboots were pink with fluffy sherpa lining, but her grandmother had also stiched little orange and yellow sequins onto them for her, which I prayed they wouldn't snag or come loose in my fingers as I held her ankles in what I hoped was a gentle vice grip as she wiggled. Even with 20lbs on my shoulders, I'd never felt lighter.

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