Cold
warm.
The cold burned around her, searing her skin into an absolute numbness. Icy tendrils crawled around under her skin, latching on to her bones with a deathly vice. Vaporous clouds meshed with the air before her as she struggled to breathe. It was as if she was the only heat source left on the earth: the only source to ward off the cold. Her cells slowed down, unable to move as before through the menacing icy tunnels which had so long been their home.
Coldness can do strange things to a person; or maybe it’s all in the mind: a strange defense mechanism of the brain. If it slowed down enough, then it would survive longer. There comes a point in this mechanism where she stops breathing, her limbs and fingers and toes go forever numb, her brain flicks its off button. But not tonight. Tonight her bed greets her: safe, and warm, and a haven of life.
And her eyes close; droop down, down. And her mind flicks through dream after dream, as if trying to find a channel to watch on a television. And she’s safe; safe, and still, and alive, and warm.
Coldness can do strange things to a person; or maybe it’s all in the mind: a strange defense mechanism of the brain. If it slowed down enough, then it would survive longer. There comes a point in this mechanism where she stops breathing, her limbs and fingers and toes go forever numb, her brain flicks its off button. But not tonight. Tonight her bed greets her: safe, and warm, and a haven of life.
And her eyes close; droop down, down. And her mind flicks through dream after dream, as if trying to find a channel to watch on a television. And she’s safe; safe, and still, and alive, and warm.