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:: Monday, February 19, 2007 ::

Blame winter for the cold

The winter clouds rolled lazily across the beautiful cerulean sky, betraying no sign of the impending cold.

Another winter, she mused, looking up at the sky. Another frost. The same journey but not the same as before. The chill fingers of the wind combed through her hair and she smiled sardonically at the almost gentle caress, though it only added to the soporific cold seeping through her body. Numb fingers finally released their stubborn grip on the fence post as she slid down into the brilliant white snow.

How beautiful the snow was, she sighed, yet to be touched by anyone. Untrampled. Pristine. Soft. So beautiful, but so treacherous.

She narrowed her eyes against the glare of the sun reflecting against the snow as the wind cut through her. Dimly, she watched her breath condense into tiny clouds. Slowly, these clouds disappeared as the warmth in her lungs fled. The light of the sun died away and the sky darkened with grey.

Tiny flakes glittered, dancing through the air. The world fell silent, as if asleep. Or dead.

She could no longer feel her hands or her legs. It was cold everywhere. So cold it hurt to breathe. Even my heart is cold now, she thought.

So. To come so far only to die. Why this winter? Why only now? What had she overlooked on this particular journey? She shut her eyes as something inside her wept for the life slipping away. Anger at the senselessness. And she'd lost the struggle this time.

Only to die.

:: And that's all she wrote 4:20 PM [+] ::
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