You were caught in an avalanche. To be rescued, you need to make it through the night. What thought(s) would give you the strength to go through such a scary, dangerous situation?
There are times when I have a sneaking suspicion that these prompts will be the death of me. Such was the situation yesterday evening, when I decided to help myself to an ice lolly from my deep freezer. Admittedly the freezer was long overdue to be thawed out and I did have to struggle with the drawer to pull it out and choose my flavour of the day. The freezing coils were covered in a layer of ice, but I did not expect this result. Who can I blame? With my full strength I pulled out the drawer and then I heard a rumbling sound in the distance. It became louder and I was hit with a force that knocked me onto my back. I landed on something hard and very, very cold.
Yes, it was ice. I then heard a tumbling sound and was quickly encased in a layer of something like snow, but not very soft and giving. More gelled and hard. My deep freezer had taken revenge, it had produced an avalanche in my kitchen. So there I was clutching onto a ice lolly, chocolate covered, and embedded in an icy grave.
I could see the headlines in the local newspaper. “Frozen body of Mrs. Angloswiss discovered beneath a mountain of ice and snow in her kitchen.” Beware housewives when you think your deep freezers are safe and an ice scraper will do the job. Do not be fooled, your freezer is planning on revenge for every frozen embedded cooling coil that can no longer do the job. You think you are safe. In Mrs. Angloswiss kitchen lays the real abominable snow person, the Yeti of Switzerland.
Apart from these visions of negative fame, I knew I would not starve to death, I had an ice lolly, chocolate covered. There was a small problem. My arm and hand were encased in a solid mass of immovable snow and ice. I felt like the donkey with a carrot hovering in front of its nose, but at least that was warm. I had a brainwave. Breathe, breath is warmer and will melt its way through the internal lining of my deep freezer. Unfortunately this was not logical. My breath froze to match the surrounding atmosphere. This was not what I envisaged as my last resting place. I decided to scratch my way through the layers of snow. I had only one hand to try this action. The other was carrying a chocolate ice lolly which stuck to my frozen hand. Visions of La Boheme came to my mind and the aria “Your Tiny Hand is Frozen”, but Mimi’s hands were frozen because they had no central heating in her rooms in the Bohemian part of Paris and she had a man, Rodolfo, who helped to thaw her out with his care and love.
My care and love was probably now going to bed, after switching off the TV and thinking I had already retired to the comfort of the bedroom. Remind me to have a few words with Mr. Swiss if I am ever rescued from this icy grave. I did not despair and called “Mr. Swiss”, there was no answer. I was rewarded with a mouth full of ice, containing a few frozen peas. Thank goodness I did not regularly inspect my freezer, I had food. The remains of a packet of peas. I noticed the peas began to melt in my mouth.I was still alive with a warmer body temperature than my freezer. Then I remembered there was a frozen bread somewhere in the freezer. Could it be that this was also somewhere in my surroundings. No, that was too much to hope for and I remembered it was laying on the kitchen table, slowly thawing out for tomorrow’s breakfast
Ah, breakfast, the thought of my bowl of cereal softening in it surroundings of milk garnished with cranberries and a welcoming cup of hot tea and my computer to the right of the bowl. My computer! how can I write my daily prompt, when I am just a frozen body buried under an avalanche from my deep freezer. How can I survive, no-one misses me. Even my felines are now sleeping their feline sleep counting mice as they disappear into their mouseholes.
Did I really neglect my freezer to the extent that it could bury me in ice and snow? Was this possible? Something is afoot. Murdered by a freezer, which manipulated the masses of snow to bury me. All I wanted was to savour an ice cream. I remember I was looking forward to seeing the repeat of the film made in 1948, Scott of the Antartic, starring John Mills. I only wanted to watch the film, not re-enact it. This is reality TV pure. I will count sheep, no, polar bears. One, two, three …….. I drifted into a sleep, no a frozen coma, and then I heard it. Scratching sounds. I could feel a vibration in my snow heap, help was near. Was it one of my felines carrying a barrel of rum around its neck? Did Mr. Swiss miss me, when he could hear no sounds of the vacuum cleaner this morning?
And suddenly there was light. Just a pin point, but it was expanding. And at last I could breathe without having icicles forming on my nose. I saw my rescuer.
“Wordy, what in the …. are you doing here. (cough, cough, splutter, splutter and I coughed up two peas, no longer frozen).
“Mrs. Angloswiss, it is our daily prompt. You are caught in an avalanche and had to survive the night to tell us all about it. Congratulations, you did it.”
Unfortunately Wordy did not have the opportunity to make further explanations. He was choking on the remains of a frozen chocolate covered lolly which was somehow lodged in his throat. After he recovered I set him to work to de-freeze my freezer.