Strange Snowy Substance

What is this strange substance? It's white, it's cold, and as I look out of the window; the entire neighbourhood is covered with the stuff as if God had thrown his shit-stained blanket over Liverpool.

It's been over two years since that wonderful Christmas Day back in 2004 and I've almost forgotten what snow actually looks like. Everything was was so picturesque back then: A carpet of white under a star-strewn sky, the houses powdered like cakes and children frolicking and laughing everywhere you turned.

Fast-forward to now. The snow is a pathetic inch at most and has been reduced to a disgusting brownish sludge; how it had managed to evade the acid rain and carbon emissions to reach the ground is anyones guess. If this was God's attempt at making up for two snowless years then it was nothing more than an insult. As I looked out from my window early that morning, I treated it with cold indifference. This wasn't snow you could make snowmen and ice forts out of, this was the annoying, disgusting kind that you try to tip-toe around and used rock salt to destroy.

I used to regard snow as something fantastically fun and treated it like white gold. Now-a-days it's just a cold nuisance that needs to be scraped off the car.

But this depressing bleakness did not last. Whilst in school, staring wistfully out of the window (it was Religious Studies), a blizzard formed and the clouds dumped their load of snowy goodness all over the playground. It was a Godsend. The atmosphere soon reached fever pitch as we waited for Break, which would give us a good ten minutes for us to hurl this precious substance at one another.

When the bell rang, we burst from our classrooms and hurled ourselves at the glass doors only to discover something was horribly amiss: We were in here, and the snow was out there, and a glass barrier separated us from that pearly white Heaven. What resulted was a massive crush as students tried to force the doors back in vain.

The school decided, for health and safety reasons, that locking us all in the school would be the best course of action. Since snow is such a dangerous substance, and in all likelihood someone could have suffered immense trauma from an unsuspecting snowball, therefore I respect their decision. But it was a catch 22: Keep us locked inside and face health and safety over fire risk, or let us out and face health and safety over ice and snow. Either way we were extremely pissed off.

As lessons resumed, the fire alarm went off (we later learnt a gang of lads in hoodies triggered it) and the teachers were powerless to stop us. Soon snowballs began to fly. And anarchy was rife.

I spied Torquer weaving through the crowds of snowball-hurling people as if dodging shells. Sneaking up on him, I dealt a fatal blow to the back of his head and he crumpled to the ground. Before he could even mutter "What the fuck" I'd picked up another and smashed it into his face. I laughed as he struggled helplessly on the ground, wimpering in shock.

Oh how I love snow!

P.S. I've been informed by Torquer that I must link to his post on Taster Sessions, since he's holding my business studies coursework at ransom. Go to his blog and read it; his grammar is vastly superior to mine.