
One could walk up the levels of the snowglobe by way of it's ice walkways, or taking the snowflakes up.

Winter came in a monochrome storm…a flurry of black and white..X-rays and CT scans.
Endless pages of neatly typed pathology.
Hospital halls, sterile offices, and starched white coats.
All in stark display against a growing bleak grey horizon that seemed to be the future for me.

I wanted to live.
A chorus of consonants…malignant,metastatic, morbidity, chemo, CANCER!
Nights of nausea…a forever of fatigue…an infinity of infection…this vast sea of despair swallowed my senses.
I grew sick.
The world was stark and dark and hope guttered like a candle set against the wind.
The world was frozen and I grew cold.
I wanted to die.

The Longest Winter whispers: Somewhere the consonants turned to constants.
Compassion, concern, caring companionship, conquering fear, despair and denial.
I dreamed of the hundred hands that had held mine through everything, each holding out a shining crystal snowglobe.
Something died then.
But it wasn't me.
I woke to see the crocus pushing their way through the snow.
The winter was fading.
The fear was too.

Gazing into the silvery sparkling snow at the tiny-toy town I would imagine it to
be a crystal ball that could show me the future.
A hundred hands holding the little globe out to me.
I went out to walk in a fresh snowfall.
Someone had shaken the world and made it beautiful again.

I was never alone.
I cannot see the future but I know I have won. I live now.
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