The Existential Snowman 297 words
“Life is so cold and uncertain,” the snowman whimpered. “I didn’t ask to be made, but here I am, standing all alone in the middle of this empty yard.”
“Why so gloomy?” asked the sparrow. “It’s just as cold for me, and you don’t hear me complaining, do you?”
“You little twit. What do you know of the life of a snowman?”
“I know you have a red wool muffler, and it looks much warmer than these bare feathers.“
“Yes, but you can hop and around and fly.”
“Well, there is that, yes; I can see it would be very bad to be stuck in one place all one’s life. Never mind then. Go back to your gloomies. You deserve them. I’ll go back to pecking for seeds.”
“At least you can eat. These lumps of coal they call a mouth are just for looks.”
“Bummer. I’ll be hopping along now.”
“Wait, don’t go. You’re the only companion I have, the only thing that gives my life meaning. Could you fly up on my arm and let me take a closer look? Yikes! What are you doing! Get away!”
“You have hair!”
“What do you mean? Quit! Quit pecking at me!”
“You’re the only snowman I ever saw with hair, spiky black hair. Someone took a lot of time to do that.”
“Oh no, more birds, swarming around my head! Can’t you do something?”
“No, it’s beyond my power. When we have eaten every last sunflower seed on your head, we will leave you alone again.”
“It’s too terrible, to be pecked bald by birds!”
“Terrible? Mr. Snowman, you should try to reframe your situation. Don’t you see? Your life has real meaning now. You, with your short and miserable existence, are keeping us, your friends, alive.”
© Copyright 2006 Wren (UN: oldcactuswren at Writing.Com).
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