The very thought of it made me

Ξ February 17th, 2007 | → 0 Comments | ∇ Misc |

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    The very thought of it made me feel giddy. Slowly, slowly, the world was turning, heavy with snow. The trees and houses were no longer upright. They were slanting. Soon it would be difficult to walk straight. All the people on earth would have to creep. If they had forgotten to fasten their windows they would burst open. The doors would burst open. The water barrels would fall over and begin to roll over the endless field and out over the edge of the world. The whole world was full of things rolling, slithering and falling. Big things rumbled, you could hear them from far off, and you had to work out where they would come, and get away from them. Here they were, rumbling past, leaping in the snow when the angle was too great, and finally falling into space. Small houses without cellars broke loose and whirled away. The snow stopped falling downwards, it flew horizontally. It fell upwards and disappeared. Everything that couldn't hold on tight rolled out into space, and slowly the sky went dark and turned black. We crept under the furniture between the windows, taking care not to tread on the glass. But from time to time a picture or a lamp bracket fell and smashed the window-pane. The house groaned and the plaster came loose. And outside, large heavy objects rumbled past, rolling right through the whole of Finland all the way down from the Arctic Circle, and they were even heavier because they had collected so much snow as they rolled and sometimes people fell past screaming all the time.

    The snow on the ground began to slither away. It slid into an enormous avalanche which grew and grew over the edge of the world ... oh no! oh no!

    I rolled backwards and forwards on the carpet to make the horror of it seem greater, and in the end I saw the wall heave over me and the pictures hung straight out on their wires.

    "What are you doing?" Mummy asked.

    Then I lay still and said nothing.

    "Shall we have a story?" she asked, and went on drawing.

    But I didn't want any other story than this one of my own. But one doesn't say that sort of thing. So I said: "Come up and look at the attic."

    Mummy dried her Indian ink pen and came with me. We stood in the attic and froze for a while and Mummy said "It's lonely here," so we went back into the warmth again and she forgot to tell me a story. Then I went to bed

    Next morning the daylight was green, underwater lighting throughout the room. Mummy was asleep. I got up and opened the door and saw that the lamps were on in all the rooms although it was morning and the green light came through the snow which had covered the windows all the way up. Now it had happened. The house was a single enormous snowdrift, and the surface of the ground was somewhere high up above the roof. Soon the trees would creep down into the snow until only their tops stuck out, and then the tops would disappear too and everything would level itself off and be flat. I could see it, I knew. Not even praying would stop it.

    I became very solemn and quite calm and sat down on the carpet in front of the blazing fire.


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