Snowman

My Christos went to the mountains.

He didn’t play, or feel it, or build a snowman. He posed for this picture and sat eating his favourite Lays Salt & Vinegar crisps and his favourite Lipton Lemon Iced Tea.

If he could talk, he would tell his mum that he is having a great time. That he is grateful she takes him on day trips and spends her day making this daily/weekly/monthly schedules. He would say how happy he is for letting him sit in the front seat and take complete control of the radio, and say sorry for shouting at her when she tries to sing to her favourite songs or tries to turn it down; it’s just how it sounds. Instead, he gives her a big bear hug, and dances by shaking his head, waving his hands and trying to sing.

The mountain air, the white scenery was beautiful and Christos decided to enjoy it in his own way. Not by running around in the snow and ruining it. It fit perfectly with his Car Routine certain voices, certain notes, a certain volume pleases his sensory overload. Instead of hearing the rushing of cars on the highway, the nooks and cracks of the car, conversations he cannot take part in, he prefers to have his songs on loud and enjoy them that way.

For that short time he hears one thing, he sees only one thing.

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