Snow And Roses Novels & Stories

ROSE POV “Mama, it’s really cold out today.” Maddie says with a puff of frost. “Yes, baby. It really is.” I reply back through my almost frozen lips. We are walking hand in hand down the snow lined city street from our one-bedroom SRO apartment toward Maddie’s school. It is below freezing outside, and the wind feels extra biting today. The trees that we pass are all frozen and bare. Their branches are filled with ice, making them sparkle in the morning sunlight. It is quite a beautiful sight. But all the newly fallen sleet and snow during the night has caused the sidewalks to become extremely treacherous, especially considering the tread on both of our shoes is practically non-existent. The

Finally, I am walking towards my fiancé, my king, and soon, my husband. As momentous steps carried me along the meticulously adorned carpet, I found myself immersed in a delicate sea of white rose petals. Each petal cradled my every step, releasing a subtle, sweet fragrance as I traversed the pathway. The air was imbued with the ethereal scent of white roses, creating an atmosphere of purity and serenity. The winter garden unfolded before me like a living dream. Ivory blossoms, cascading from gracefully arched branches, created a fragrant canopy overhead.

Trees on either side of the narrow road swayed with the force of the strong wind and it made the snow fell from the trees in clumps, coming down like white powder to blanket the ground. It would be beautiful if it were not so creepy out here in the middle of nowhere with nothing but trees and vast darkness to surround them.

Stella observed. "Because I am old," I said. "And it's a good excuse." At eighty-four my Parkinson's progressed enough that I needed help with daily tasks, and I hired a part-time aide named Rosa who treated me with efficient kindness. "You don't have to help me shower," I protested the first time. "I can manage." "You fell twice last week," Rosa said. "No more managing alone." "I hate this," I said. "Everyone hates getting old," Rosa said. "But you're handling it better than most."

"Just telling you what I see." Near the end of the hunt, he stops in front of a decorative rose bush. White petals edged in pale pink, frosted with artificial snow. He plucks one and holds it out to me. "A winter rose," he says. "In Argentina, we call them rosa de escarcha. They only bloom in the cold. People think they're fragile because they look delicate, but they survive things that would kill ordinary flowers." His eyes hold mine. "Reminds me of someone. The most beautiful woman I know."

Her eyes darted toward the glass entrance, where everyone had turned to look. Rosa’s eyes sparkled at the sight of soft snow falling outside, visible through the glass door. Without realizing it, her body turned toward the scene, watching how beautifully the snowflakes floated. Her eyes glowed with pure bliss. She hadn’t witnessed snow in years. An irresistible urge to run outside and touch the flakes rose in her heart. Rosa wanted to feel them, to play with them, to see their beauty up close. Her lavender eyes softened, round and starry, like tiny galaxies reflecting the falling snow. Her lips, naturally cherry red, added to her delicate beauty.

He was unable to react but didn't push Joseph away as well. The snow started falling. The maroon-colored plum flowers looked even more beautiful with the falling of snow. Their little peck looked even more beautiful and meaningful. It looked as if everything was meant to be from the beginning. The field, full of different flowers and the snow falling on top, made it look like everything was a scene straight from a romance movie.

First snow this year. She accepted no objections and took them all for a walk, even the disheveled and gloomy Tom. They did not dare to go with the bully Rosvo to the dog playground, they went to the river bank, completely deserted at this time of the year. There was little snow, but enough to cover the heather and gorse bushes before it started to melt. The river flowed slowly in a dark gray ribbon and the clouds covered almost the entire sky, and in rare gaps it was pale blue. Rosvo rushed through the bushes, leaving his "daisies" on the white snow sheet and raising his paw at every more or less decent blade of grass. Tom pulled the hood of his jacket down, shoved his hands into his pocket

WaterRose, Meadow Mountain, Grier Country SEBASTIAN Snow had begun falling on Meadow Mountain. And with it came Sebastian. Dragging in a wiltry tree he’d cut down. Dusty white flakes fell softly with no wind to disturb them. Coating the land in a white haze. Frosting branches until they shimmered beneath a coating of chilled fur. The flowers ever in bloom in the valley around WaterRose remained the same under the icy coating suspending the petals. Sebastian smelled the bread Elengard was baking and saw candles were already brightening every window.

‘Then why are you looking at their roots and covering them back’ Natasha asked. ‘You know their age through their roots’ nara said ‘snow grass has a life span of 100 years, the snow grass they are taking is about 50-60 years’. ‘Wow I guess it’s true, healers and witches go crazy for herbs’ ivory murmured opening the map she held. Ivory noticed a blue dot at the entry point of chex on the map, straining her eyes she looked at it carefully. ‘This wasn’t there before’ ivory thought.