old times

I miss the feeling I get when I step outside. Those crystal-like objects falling down from the sky onto my warm cheeks, melting instantly. They seem so magical in my eyes. Dad would sprinkle mounds of salt on the front door porch, and I'd be jumping on them, giggling to myself.
I'd daydream of walking all the way to school in the cold weather. But I knew that Dad would have to send us in the white MPV that we had. With our hands fully armed with our large-sized lunchboxes and our bodies bundled up like little hotdogs in their buns, we'd hop into the car and drive away to school. I loved staring out the window, staring at the dirty slushy snow that ended up on the side of the road.

After school, us siblings would play in the great mountains of white substances til our fingers froze. We even made a big snow mountain in the backyard. Sister and I would rush into the house countless times to obtain buckets and buckets of tapwater to be poured onto the piles of snow. Sliding down our work of art was superfun.

I miss those memories.