SNOW (UNTITLED)
Two faces pressed against the windowpane, their noses indistinguishable through the tiny circles of fog that misted the glass.
"Two to eight inches, they say."
"Eight would be nice."
They remained there for a few more minutes, bodies tilted eagerly against the sill, until their condensation obscured the glass in front of their eyes and one by one they pulled back. The boy flipped his head backward in an attempt to relocate the unruly strands of hair that had fallen before his face. The other, the young woman, ascended the stairs, paying no notice to the creaking that accented each footfall. She rounded the corner and strode into the kitchen to peer up at the skylight.
"Two to eight inches, they say ..." she repeated, brow furrowing at the thought. "...Now, that doesn't actually give it any truth." Similar predications had been declared before, and everytime their validity slid back a level. Yet, she couldn't help but grow excited. The ivory dusting that coated the skylight seemed promising.
"It's supposed to snow into the next morning." the boy called from the foyer.
"That doesn't mean a thing." she curtly responded, crossing her arms and glaring half-heartedly up and out the window.
"It's still snowing..." he replied.
They both sighed, one right after the other, and left their positions to wander into the den and fix their gaze upon the blackened television.
"It'll just say the same thing. No use in hearing it twice."
Ignoring her comment, the boy leaned forward, slapping on the screen just in time to hear an affirmation of five to ten inches, to which they both remained silent. Before the announcer could strut his balding way around the eastern map, she grabbed the remote and flicked the power off.
"Ten inches!" he exclaimed, whirling about and sliding along the wooden floored corridor.
"Damn liars." she muttered, following the boy, but pausing halfway down the hallway and lightly notching the thermostat to the left, lowering the temperature, and aiding the forecasters ... perhaps, just this once.