[Flashback] Winter Wrap-up (Eridanus)

[Kendall Saarinen]

12th of Winter, 506 AV Literature class had just ended and Kendall walked out of the classroom, hand in hand with Kay'lan. "Babe, I gotta head off for a bit. I'll see you later though. Dinner at your house, right?" Kay'lan smiled apologetically as he looked at Kendall. "That's fine. Just don't be late. You know how my dad hates it when you are late." The Vantha chuckled, leaning forward to kiss Kendall on the temple. "I know, I know." With a kiss on Kay'lan's lips, the Vantha walked off leaving Kendall to figure out what she was going to do with her afternoon. For a while the girl simply walked through the university, singing quietly to herself. When she finally made it outside she tugged her coat close around her, shivering lightly at the cold. It was only the beginning of Morwen's season but that did not stop the freezing weather. She knew she should have been hiding out inside, possibly in the library or one of the student commons but it was beautiful out. The snow sat lightly over the city. It was not thick, just a thin blanket of white. Placing her bag on the steps of the University, she sat down and placed her notebook on her lap. Looking at the people walking past the brunette started to scribble in her notebook. Winter always inspired such wonderful poetry and that was exactly what she was writing. Kendall hoped Kay'lan would like it. Being from the city of winter he would have the best insight.

[Eridanus]

Eridanus sat on the steps of the University, his over-sized coat shielding him from the cold, such that from behind he looked like a cloak over a pile of something with a multi-colored mess of hair on a head poking out of the opening on top, looking like a pretty broad paintbrush from afar. He was not paying attention to what people was thinking of him, for he sat twirling his pencil, his other hand holding a notepad with scribbled words and lots of crosses and a thoughtful expression on his face. He was in the earlier literature class, and was out here ever since, trying to find inspiration for his homework. The assignment was to write a short prose describing the snow - the professor taking advantage of the current season - and then transforming it into poetry, following the same general feel of the example text given. The snow-flakes fell ever so gently, as if they are tears from the sky mourning the wintry death of nature. Yet they are beautiful, as death can be when one admires the grand scheme of life. Such is the wonder of nature, and as the falling crystals of winter bring closure, they also signify the beginning of life in spring, when they melt and become the reagent of life - water. He paused, frowning. His prose so far should be pretty acceptable, but he could not think of how he was supposed to turn it into poetry. What was poetry? An expression of thoughts, wonder, life or even a targeted message, and using this definition he believed that poetry was anything that sufficiently captured the feel of the content in an artistic way that prose could not - without overly being expository. He appreciated the emotions behind the example text and he could feel that, this would admit. But he could not personally relate to the text, and he felt that he was unable to follow in the same way. The prof should not try to force creativity, for limitation is the number one killer of imagination. Deciding to just petch it all, he twirled his pencil one last time, deciding to just do it the way he wanted to. White flakes, of snow, it shows the cycle of growth Light wakes, it slows, as winter was born in the world I said, to snow, please show me the wisdom of the world It said, in reply, look at me and exactly what I show? It was still raw, but he felt that it captured the essence of the idea in his prose. Not only that, he intended it to have artistic beauty in using literal devices of metaphorical conversation with inanimate objects to convey a statement, and the use of art within the very structure of the poetry to emphasize the idea of a circle. Grinning in a satisfied manner, he was confident that the professor would at least see the merits of his work, and he unconsciously began to whistle a common Vani tune, continuing to work on his notepad not noticing the girl who came out of the huge entry-doors to sit next to him.