They were so young. Grins on their faces more often than not. Dressed in wool caps, fuzzy mittens, and brightly colored scarves. The backs of their snowsuits still showed evidence of the snow angels they’d just completed. An annual tradition at the first deep snow. Jill’s yard was always the scene. More often than not, they’d be in the midst of a wild dance to the blizzard gods when Mrs. Cranston called out to them, one by one. All of the names swallowed up by the cold, but loud enough so they knew her homemade hot chocolate was ready.
All these years later, Jill looking so beautiful in her wedding gown, they sat looking expectantly at Mrs. Cranston. Snow falling outside the church fellowship hall’s window, she held up her champagne flute: “To lasting friendship, my dears. You will always be my cold-nosed angels!”

It’s Prosery Monday at dVerse, the virtual pub for poets across the globe. Today Bjorn is hosting from Stockholm, Sweden. He asks us to include the line All of the names swallowed up by the cold in our piece of prose/flash fiction that is 144 words or less in length, sans title. The line is from the poem “After Someone’s Death” by the late Swedish Nobel Laureate, Tomas Tranströmer.

“All of the names swallowed up by the cold, but loud enough so they knew her homemade hot chocolate was ready” … sigh I love this!
The prose in its entirety has such a lovely nostalgic feeling to it, Lillian! Gorgeously rendered. 🩷🩷
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A heartwarming tale … in the snow.❄️
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I love this story, Lillian. 💙 I love how you incorporated the prompt line in such a lovely way. I can imagine it being true, and that makes me happy.
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Gilded memories from childhood, tenderly rendered.
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I love how you used the line to such a sweet happy story. Not as sinister as others like me saw it.
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a call to hot chocolate; nice one.
much♡love
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a sweet tale, yet nor saccarinely so! The details make it so real and memorable. Mrs Cranston sounds quite a character!
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A great story, Lillian. I love the way you used the snow angels in your narrative.
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Enchanting. This is a very unique use of the prompt, which I thoroughly enjoyed.
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I remember days like that, snow angels and the like. And of course homemade hot chocolate!
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Lovely story ❤️ Hot chocolate in the winter sounds fantastic.
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This is so wonderful! A beautiful break among all the heavy and dark prose pieces today. I love your use of the given line.
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Being called in for homemade hot chocolate highlights the sense of community and care that permeates the scene!
The phrase “All of the names swallowed up by the cold” serves as a reminder of the inevitability of loss, yet it also underscores the enduring impact of cherished memories.
Beautiful!
~David
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Prose that takes me back, so evocative of the feelings your raise that I recall.
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