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[22 Jan 2011|09:33am] |
Who: Sam (Lewis and Annie on the playground) and Open
What: Swinging and playing and stuff
Where: Playground just outside the mansion
When: Sunday afternoon
Rating: likely G, but depends who joins in doing/discussing what
Status: Incomplete
The snow was well past ankle deep on the grounds, but the littles didn't really care. They were bundled up in layer after layer against the cold, toques pulled down over their ears almost meeting the thick scarves wrapped around their necks as they pumped steadily away on the swings. It was hard to remember, painful to, even, when the little playground tucked against the side of the mansion had been noisy with the voices of children, even on a winter's afternoon. Most of them older than the twins, of course.
Sam didn't let himself remember those days anymore, though. All that mattered in this moment was Lewis and Annie, breathless voices carrying quietly in the crisp, cold air as they chattered at each other; about the chickens and the milk cows, about some antics of the dogs in a snowbank earlier in the day.
Sam adjusted his own gloves, pulling them slightly higher against the chill, and smiled at the sheer, incongruous normality of it. Today was a good day. He'd finished work in the garage, the tune-up on one of the trucks that had been running a bit rough going smooth, as smooth as its engine was running now, and then found the twins waiting for him, eager and bright. Little hands reaching, indifferent to the grease rubbed deep into the creases of his skin as they'd reached for his own. Begged him to come out and watch them swing in the bright, cold afternoon sun. And for now that was all he did. Watched, smiling, and thought of nothing beyond this moment. That for now, everyone (left) was safe and alive.
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