If you're writing one I was thinking differently..
The old white-washed gate swayed lazily against the cold breeze; snow barely topping the fence it swung from. An old dog with ruffled brown hair lay across a large front porch gazing at the big yard and that gate at the far end. Suddenly she lifts her head as a stranger approaches the gate and stands quickly with some trouble. It stood there wagging its tail as the stranger walked slowly across the yard, a limp slightly detected in his leg. His step was heavy... and very slow, like a burden weighed him down. Yet with every step he grew lighter- the wary lines across his face seemed to disappear, and his back began to straighten. As he reached the porch the dog sniffed cautiously at his hand then licked it, allowing the man to pet her.
"So you're still here, ain'tcha ol' girl? Has Molly and the lad taken good care of ya'?" he asked, setting an old powdered rifle against the porch steps, then sitting himself next to her. More snow began to fall and it grew very cold. His tattered coat whipped about him in an effort to warm him, but he didn't mind. His gaze swept the yard and a smile grew on his face. He reached up and removed the grey-brimmed hat from his head. Two bullet holes were there at the top just above his head; near misses that would have put him in a hole in the ground and not on his porch.
"So the war's finally over... wonder what Lee'll do now..." he mused aloud, still petting the dog. He looked down at her old face, filled with a grin so big he laughed aloud. "You don't care do ya'? Well ye' know, I don't care either." the man said, then he stood up, the dog following suit. The man took one final look at the snow-filled yard and the big oak trees bare of leaves.
"C'mon girl, let's go see Molly." he said. The dog gave a loud bark and ran into the door he was opening. Then quietly, so only hisself could hear, "It's good to be home. Merry Christmas, John; you're home."
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If he could post one I wanted to post one too :P
I believe that as Humans we will never grow beyond fighting or wars. We will never find words as a means of solving problems as long as one man believes differently than another man. This piece spoke strongly in my mind. I envisioned a man worn with fighting coming home after years of war to be with his wife and family. The snow he sees is a fresh start; one that every man could be home to enjoy Christmas.
Thanks for letting me post. This piece was absolutely beautiful!