By Lexi Vortex, Neon City Gazette
Snow Falling in Neon
The snow was a rare visitor in Neon City.
It fell slowly, almost reverently, softening the city’s jagged neon edges. The usual cacophony—the blaring sirens, hissing steam vents, and the thrum of hovercars—was muffled, as though the city itself had paused to take a breath.
Lexi Vortex tugged her coat tighter around her, her boots crunching against the pristine layer underfoot. Her glowing penlight cast faint blue hues onto her open journal as she walked, letting her thoughts spill across the page in quick, fragmented lines. Tonight wasn’t about deadlines or breaking news; it was about listening to the city. And tonight, the city was speaking softly.
She turned into an alley without much thought, following the flicker of a half-dead neon sign above a long-abandoned noodle shop. That’s when she saw them.
Two figures huddled beneath a rusted awning, the faint glow of a makeshift heater casting their shadows across the alley wall. The larger of the two—a wiry boy with electric-blue streaks in his buzzed hair—was gesturing animatedly, his laughter cutting through the stillness. The other, a slight figure with mismatched boots and neon tattoos creeping up her neck, leaned back against the wall, a sly grin on her face. Between them sat a crumpled granola bar wrapper, the remains of their meagre feast.
Lexi hesitated, clutching her journal close. To the rest of the city, they would look like trouble—another pair of street punks clinging to shadows. But there was something about the warmth in their laughter, the unspoken camaraderie between them, that pulled her closer.
“Oy, wanderin’ the wilds, are ya, sweetheart?” the girl called, her voice carrying an edge of teasing curiosity. “Ain’t nothin’ out here but snow an’ ghosts.”
Lexi smiled nervously, stepping closer. “Not lost, just... wandering.”
The boy, barely more than a teenager, tossed her a crumbly corner of the granola bar. “Here, reckon there’s enough left for three. Sit. World’s cold enough, don’t need you freezin’.”
Lexi accepted the morsel and perched on the edge of an overturned crate, brushing the snow from its surface. “Thank you. I didn’t mean to intrude.”
“Nah,” the girl said, smirking as she leaned forward, her elbows resting on her knees. “We don’t mind a bit o’ company, do we, Ash?”
Ash shrugged, his grin easy. “S’alright. Snow’s rare, an’ rare things deserve t’ be shared.”
Small Moments, Big Truths
As they sat there, the three of them sharing crumbs of granola under the faint glow of neon, Ash began to talk. His voice was quiet but steady, carrying a wisdom far beyond his years.
“See, the trick ain’t chasin’ the big stuff,” he said, gesturing at the snow drifting lazily to the ground. “It’s ‘bout the lil’ wins, yeah? Like sharin’ this bar while the city sleeps. That’s the real shine.”
Star nudged him with her elbow, her laugh sharp and warm. “Hear that? Our Ash thinks he’s some kinda philosopher.”
Ash grinned, unbothered. “Ain’t a philosopher. Just seen enough t’ know what matters.”
Lexi leaned forward, her journal forgotten for the moment. “What does ‘real shine’ mean to you?”
Star’s expression softened as she looked up at the falling snow. “Ain’t in the creds or the towers or the neon. It’s here. Right now. Snow fallin’, granola crumbs, someone t’ share it with.” She smiled, her neon tattoos catching the faint light. “That’s the truth, darlin’. An’ most people don’t even see it.”
Polite Society and Falling Snow
A couple passed by the mouth of the alley, their steps quick and their glances fleeting. Lexi caught the sharp glare of the man as he pulled his partner closer, his disdain as clear as the snow underfoot.
“Bet they think we’re nothin’,” Ash muttered, bitterness creeping into his tone.
“Good,” Star snapped, crossing her arms. “They’ll leave us be. They don’t see it—what we got here. Their loss.”
Lexi looked at the two punks, the contrast between their rough exteriors and the tenderness of their moment striking her deeply. They don’t see it, she thought. But I do.
Reflections
When the cold finally began to bite too hard, Lexi rose, brushing snow from her coat. “Thank you,” she said softly, looking between them. “For the granola—and the wisdom.”
Star grinned, tilting her head toward the alley’s exit. “Careful now, or you’ll start thinkin’ we’re poets or somethin’. Off ya go, sweetheart. City’s waitin’.”
As Lexi walked away, the snow began to fall heavier, cloaking the alley in a luminous, otherworldly glow. She glanced back one last time, watching as Star and Ash leaned into each other, their laughter rising softly into the night.
The snow fell in waves, blanketing the grime of the streets in a fleeting purity. It touched everything—the broken pavement, the rusted walls, and the two figures huddled together, their light shining undimmed.
In her journal, Lexi wrote:
"Even in the coldest corners of Neon City, there are Stars that refuse to stop shining. The real shine isn’t in the towers or the credits—it’s in the quiet corners, where the snow falls gently, and life, against all odds, thrives."
This is Lexi Vortex, signing off.