By Rivka Yeker
Cars are being piled with fluff and the speed bump’s arrow-shaped design is being emphasized with a white highlight. The lamplight is reflecting against the snowflakes, showing us how large they actually are. Like they do in films that focus heavy on the scenery, winter evening, Friday night, and the roommates are resting across this small apartment. One bakes cookies, while one lies entranced with her phone, one sits on a chair staring at the first snowfall in Chicago, in November.
The weatherman said 8 inches, and the weatherman should be right since he has no other topic to cover. He doesn’t have to talk about the hostages in Mali, the terrorist attacks in Paris, the desperate refugees in Syria.
I had a dream that I was in an interview and someone had asked me about the war happening all over the world, the tyrants, the maniacs, the murderers, the blood shed, and in my dream I responded with, “It’s much easier to start a fire than to put one out.” Meaning that being angry, uncivil, uncaring, and untamed is much simpler than putting energy into something that could potentially never grow or change, like watching the world explode while sitting with laptops before us, sharing Facebook statuses and trying our best to do something that seems like it can’t be undone.
Watching people do everyday things while on the 3rd floor of an apartment and a window separating noise seems like watching someone else watch a film; it is easy to romanticize the way a person lives by not hearing the subtle groans pulled from their chest while wiping off snow on their minivan.
There is invisibility in the restlessness of our world today, as people lay on their couches absorbed in Facebook’s constant updates, with trending topics changing by the minute, they hide under blankets separated by windows from reality. The snow is covering up the streets, but it’ll melt by next week.