The still dry air birthed the Sun as Ivan stepped out of his house. He watched the steam of his breath dance into nothingness. The sight of it all made him smile. Real winter, he thought, weather we haven’t seen since the exodus.
The snow that fell the night before blanketed the horizon in a white sea. Sacred as gold and glittering with love. How anyone saw winter as a price of life here he couldn’t understand, if anything this beauty was a gift- a price all humans could afford; what’s a bit of snow on an uninhabitable planet? Nothing, that’s what- nothing but a beauty no one could take in.
He crunched through the snow to his car and with naked hands wiped the cold powder off the windshield, lights, and camera. As the car started itself from his presence he noticed the neighbors stepping outside to marvel at the snow. Such peace.
His husband sat in the living room staring out the window when he came back in. Steam from Frank’s coffee rolled over his shoulders.
“Can you believe it?” Ivan asked.
“Yeah- it’s disgusting. I hate the snow.”
Ivan sighed and grabbed himself a mug.
“But,” he said, “the way the light bounces off it is just enchanting don’t you think?”
“Yeah- in Christmas pictures of December in Michigan. Keep that shit outta my planet. I didn’t go some 43 light years for this crap.”
Of all the things to upset you, Ivan thought, of all that this entailed- the terraforming, the progress, the sacrifices– it had to be something beautiful. He sipped his coffee and eyed the horizon from the kitchen.
“Frank?” He said.
“I want a divorce.”