The flurries dance on the wind. The city slowly transforms into a wonderland. The steel and concrete slowly camouflages, turning from dull, drab greys to a pure white coat. Its elegance is unsurpassed. To put it simply; it is pure magic.

You move effortlessly.

Impossible to predict, your beauty and allure’s magnetism is difficult to deny. You smile, you pirouette in the burgeoning winter wonderland. Your hair sweeps the air, whipping the snow; your smile lights up the phone. My smile betrays me and I can’t help but show my hand.

I wonder.

In the recesses of my mind, if it’s just an act or if this is who you really are. I’m confronted with this reality: I don’t know and I probably won’t until its all over. When the final wreckage is surveyed, as well as the joys and thrills reminisced upon, I’ll have a better idea. And only then. However, in the mean time, you drift and dance with an intoxicating rhythm similar to the flurries in the wind. A random foray where the outcome can’t be predicted. A truly unpredictable, yet sweet, mystery.

I have no control over this. Just as I have no control over where the snow goes, and how it falls. I’m just a person with a phone, while you playfully move and delight in this magical experience; the first snow fall of the year.

Or do I. Can I sway destiny? Or is there even such a thing? Does it even matter? Click. Click. Click. I capture every moment I can while these thoughts swim through my reptilian mind. Or at least I’d prefer to believe so, for now.

I hand back your phone and keep walking. You turn, scanning the photos and say, “God you’re awful at taking pictures,” with a wink and smile. I fake the most nonchalant smile I can muster and keep moving one foot in front of the other, hoping you won’t see right through me and what I feel for you.

“What a ride,” I think to myself as the wind kicks up and blow snow into my eyes. I blink hard, shiver and keep moving toward the unknown.