The last snowflake

I watched as he walked joyfully down the street with a bag of veggies. The timer was about to run out and the blue count gradually changed to purple. It will, in time change to orange and then red; marking his death. 

This was something that always came up in my musings. Why would a supreme power, if any, give us such a sense? - The ability to know when a peer's life ends.

What good will it ever do?

I sat in my usual spot in the diner and asked for a plate of bacon and some coffee. The waitress paused for a moment and walked away to the counter.

I plugged in my earphones and resumed my playlist.

Interrupting, the waitress gently dropped the plate on my table, audaciously showing how much she cared and parted. Her face is devoid of the faintest smile. Why can't people just smile?

That was about a week ago.

But today, something felt different.

Good different.

I noticed it once I got out of my apartment. The old lady selling flowers down the street took a good look at me and gave me a smile. A big broad smile. Not the kind of smile you would give for a passing remark or a gentle comedy, but one with which you look at a newborn.

The climate was pleasant and the roads busy. An occasional runner or cyclist stopped or slowed to smile at me. And I smiled back.

Work was okay that day. Nothing out of the ordinary, except for the lunch when the gang sat together, cracking some jokes, having a good time.

As I walked back home that day, the sun at the horizon seemed to glow in the most vibrant of hues. A tiny flake of snow fell on my shoulder from the skies up above.