Vignette. Enjoy. :)

The corner of a light gray sidewalk was surrounded by a layer of fluffy white snow. The morning sun yawned as it lazily rose its forehead above an unseen horizon blocked by rows of sleeping houses. It was a gray morning and the sky was still covered in dark snow clouds. There was a lonesome metal pole standing, worn from the weather, out of the snow. Perched atop it, were two grass green signs slightly dripping with melting snow. One said CLINTON. The other said SUMTER DR. No one ever knew why it was just CLINTON and not CLINTON DR just like SUMTER DR. But it was what it was. The intersection of Clinton and Sumter Drive was a three way: Clinton into Sumter, but not across it. Opposite to the street sign, on Sumter Drive, was a white house with black shutters and a black tile roof. The roof was half covered in snow and only the driveway was completely cleared of it. There was one old wooden garage door that was painted white. It slowly creaked to life as it rolled itself up to let in the cold morning air of winter. A door creaked somewhere in the house and a little girl walked out, no older than six. Her black hair was pulled back into a small ponytail and a backpack rested lightly on her back. She had a hat pulled over her head that sometimes slid up a little because of her ponytail and a scarf was wrapped tightly around her neck. She walked slowly down the driveway, as if afraid of slipping on the ice that formed overnight. Crossing the road and stepping onto the sidewalk, she left small footprints in the once smooth snow. She pulled her coat tightly around her as she breathed out and watched her breath turn to fog in the cold winter air. Winter break had just ended. It was the start of a new year. She stood there by herself for a little longer before other children started wandering to the corner of the sidewalk. A few chatted with each other, but most of them decided to save their breath. It was cold out after all. They waited a few more minutes before a loud rumbling sound echoed through the neighborhood. A bright yellow school bus rounded the corner of Sumter and stopped at Clinton, its two clear doors bursting open. Everyone filed in except for the little girl. She stood there hesitantly for a second before she took a step out and walked into the warm bus. The doors closed behind her and the bus rumbled away. The corner of the street resumed its previous quietness. The snow was now covered in footprints. There was one set of prints that belonged to a small six year old girl. A small girl going to the first day of school after moving to a new house.

The End

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