It's a strange sensation, the cold. It's an odd mixture of pain and numbness; it's neither, but it's both. The effects it has on your body, making you slow, weary and tired. Your stiff joints shiver and shudder in their vain attempt to generate energy. Your skin turns pale as your body tries to reduce the amount of heat lost as much as it can. Hairs stand up on end as if you were an animal covered in fleece.
As the cold gets colder, frost may begin to settle. Rain turns to sleet, turns to snow, turns to hail. Your path becomes treacherous as the sky cries ice, the air becomes thin, the earth shudders and flames burn low.
Cold tendrils of icy wind crawl beneath your sleeves, claiming your body, slowly but surely taking you whole. It takes you under, burying you alive as if your body was floating in the cold waters, trapped beneath the surface by a thick sheet of ice and snow.
It's hard to breathe, it's impossible to breathe.
All you know is cold.
YOU ARE READING
Short Story (and poetry) Collection
RandomSometimes when I have a weird or sad or scary thought, I come to this book and I write it down in whatever form it takes. There are sad poems, 500 word thrillers, a few tired old stories I wrote when I was 13-14 and some very short descriptive piec...
