“The first snow will bring me to your doorstep,” he said. But he didn’t come.
Frostbitten Memories by Simon Semyonov
Lena has always liked this cozy coffee shop on the central square. Today she sat at her favorite table by the frozen window, running her fingers over the patterns. The familiar aroma of coffee and the gentle hum of conversation surrounded her, immersing her in an enchanting world.
Suddenly, she pressed her nails to the window and scratched the magnificent pattern. Four rough lines tore apart the beautiful drawing.
“I hate all of this so much,” Lena said.
Every year, with the arrival of the first snow, Lena found herself here, in this very spot, nursing a fragile hope. Her eyes, once alight with dreams, now held a weariness — a quiet sorrow that settled in the lines of her face. Each snowflake that touched the windowpane echoed the delicate fragments of her heart, suspended in midair, much like her lingering expectation.
As she watched the snowfall, a bitter mix of anticipation and resignation tugged at her. Her eyes, once searching, now held a flicker of defiance beneath the weight of her unspoken longing. The first snow was no longer just a weather event; it was a reminder of broken promises, of a love story frozen in memory.
In that café on that winter night, Lena’s heart rushed about between the pull of nostalgia and the push of reality. And as she sat there, her gaze fixed on the door, the storm of emotions within her threatened to engulf her.
She remembered the first time she had met him, a mere stranger in the vast expanse of the internet, whose words resonated with her soul.
“Hey there,” his message had popped up one evening, a friendly beacon in the digital twilight. “I couldn’t help but notice your love for winter. It’s my favorite season too.”
Thus began a conversation that wove its own tale of connection and understanding. They talked about everything under the sun, or rather, under the snow. From favorite winter reads to the magic of snowflakes, their words danced across the screen, bridging the physical distance between them.
“There’s something enchanting about the way snowflakes fall,” he typed, his words as gentle as the snowflakes they were talking about. “Each one is unique, just like people and their stories.”
Lena had found herself drawn to his kindness, his ability to see beauty in the ordinary, and the genuine warmth that permeated his messages. He became her confidant, her kindred spirit in the digital ether. The more they talked, the more she realized he was exactly what she had been searching for — someone who understood the poetry of winter, someone who could hear the unsaid words hidden between the lines of her messages.
“You have a way with words,” she had typed one day. “I feel like you understand me, even when I don’t say a word.”
“Maybe that’s the magic of our connection,” he replied. “Some souls just find each other, even in the vastness of the internet.”
Their conversations became a sanctuary, a space where Lena could be herself without fear of judgment. The warmth of his words thawed the loneliness that had settled in her heart, replacing it with the comforting embrace of companionship.
“Do you believe in fate?” he asked one night.
“I do,” Lena replied, her fingers dancing over the keys. “I believe that some events are meant to be, no matter the distance.”
And so, their online exchanges continued, each message weaving a thread in the tapestry of their budding relationship. Through the screen, they found a connection that went beyond the digital realm, a connection that would shape the course of Lena’s life, leaving her with memories as enduring as the first snowfall of winter.
A sudden and chilling message, like a winter wind, made her shiver.
“I earned money and bought a plane ticket to your city,” he had typed hurriedly, his excitement palpable even through the digital medium. “Wait for me. The first snow will bring me to your doorstep.”
Online communication turned into a lifeline for her, a thread of fate carefully woven by invisible hands. But the promise of his arrival, whispered through pixels and emoticons, scared Lena. What if he doesn’t like her?
Forgetting about her doubts, she began to look forward to the first snow.
But he did not come.
A phone call from a stranger brought news of a motorcycle accident, broken bones, and shattered dreams. He had tried to come, but fate had played its hand. The universe had other plans.
In the silent expanse of the Internet, Lena’s messages echoed despair. She wrote to him, calling him by name as if her faith in the power of fate could bring him back to her. Instead of an answer, she only had the sterile smell of despair and his “account is offline” status.
In those moments of despair, Lena stood on the precipice of losing not just faith in fate but faith in the very fabric of existence. How could a force that had once felt so benevolent and so guiding lead them to this juncture? How could luck, that elusive companion, abandon them in their hour of need?
Days turned into weeks, weeks into months, and still, he did not come. Lena’s heartache marred the pristine beauty of the first snowfalls, robbing them of their magic. The café, once a sanctuary of hope, became a reminder of promises unkept. Lena’s steps, once determined, grew hesitant as if the very ground beneath her feet had lost its solidity.
In the quiet of her room, beneath the muted glow of a winter moon, Lena questioned the cosmos. She asked the stars, the same ones that had witnessed their laughter-filled conversations if they had conspired against them. She asked the snowflakes, once a source of joy if they had seen his fall and chosen to remain silent.
As she gazed at the heavens, her faith wavered. She doubted the threads of fate that had bound them together; she questioned the luck that had once felt like a guiding hand. In the depths of her despair, Lena wondered if love was nothing more than a cosmic joke, a beautiful illusion shattered by the harshness of reality.
But even in her darkest moments, a glimmer of hope remained — a fragile ember that refused to be extinguished. Deep within, Lena held on to the memory of their connection, the warmth of his words, and the promise of a love that had transcended the digital realm. And so, despite the despair, she clung to the belief that fate, in its mysterious ways, would find a path to reunite them once more.
The cafe was a sanctuary of both solace and sorrow. Three years had passed since fate’s cruel twist had stolen her love away. She needed to move on with her life. One nice guy proposed marriage to her, and she asked for a few days to think about it. Tonight, Lena came for the last time. For the last time, she was going to give fate and the first snowfall a chance for a miracle.
As the clock struck ten, the cafe emptied. The owner, a kind-hearted soul who had witnessed Lena’s silent vigils, approached her gently. “I’m afraid we’re closing, my dear,” he said, his voice laced with sympathy.
Blinking back tears, Lena nodded, hastily turning to pack her bag, attempting to conceal her despair from prying eyes. The soft jingle of bells on the door seemed deafening in the stillness of the night. Her heart sank further, each chime echoing the hollow spaces within her soul.
Just as she was about to turn and walk out into the cold night, a warm hand covered her eyes. Startled, she turned, her breath catching in her throat. A familiar voice, filled with tenderness, whispered, “I said that I would come with the first snow.”
She knew that voice. It was him. Her love, her long-lost soulmate, stood before her, his eyes mirroring the storm of emotions raging within her. At that moment, time seemed to stand still. The entire universe, with all its whims and fancies, had conspired to bring them back together.
She reached out, her fingers trembling as they touched his cheek, tracing the lines of his face to assure herself that he was real. Tears once held back, now flowed freely. Words failed her, but they weren’t necessary. Their eyes met, exchanging a lifetime’s worth of unspoken promises, love, and aching longing.
The owner, witnessing the miracle unfolding before him, discreetly withdrew, leaving them in their sacred moment. In that empty cafe, amidst the first snowfall of winter, fate had rewritten its story. Love had triumphed over separation, and the universe, which had once seemed indifferent, now whispered its blessings.
Hand in hand, they stepped out into the snowy night, and the world around them transformed into a winter wonderland. The first snowfall had kept its promise, bringing her love back. Together, they walked into the night, leaving behind the memories of waiting and embracing the future, hand in hand, under the gently falling snowflakes.
***
In the quiet town, there lived a young girl named Lena, after her mother. She had heard the story of her parents’ love since childhood. How they met, the trials they faced, and the miracle that brought them back together.
On the eve of each first snowfall, young Lena would venture to the same café. She would sit at that very window, armed with her mother’s diary — weathered by time yet brimming with the enduring essence of love.
In the soft glow of the café lights, young Lena would read her mother’s diary, her eyes reflecting the same determination that once resided in her parents’ gaze. The sound of the doorbells echoing through the café would send the same shivers down her spine.
One day, she believed, the Universe would conspire to bring her love, just like it had done for her parents. Love, she knew, had a way of finding its rightful place, even amid snowflakes and starlit nights.
Frostbitten Memories by Simon Semyonov
