Kismet

(Author's note: This is one of my favorite words, both for meaning and look/sound.)


She looked out the window at the snow falling down. The cold soft flakes flashed like sequins in the wind, and they formed a layer of pure white on the ground. She thought about all the imperfections, all the bumps and dips covered by this snow. Everything made to seem equal, everything made to seem clean.

Was this what her life would be? Her smile like snow over the earth of her life? Would people look and see only the beauty, forgetting the cold, lifelessness it brought?

She turned away from the window. Sometimes it was better not to think about it. There was a plan for everything, and she had to trust that soon the snow would melt and reveal the truth beneath.