Snow

The air was like a crypt in winter

cold and smelling of death

The little boy breathed in and out

watching the small white puffs

becoming lighter and multiplying

as he breathed faster and faster

and became colder and colder

damp sweat at the ends of his scraggly black hair

turning solid and crystallizing

his skin tinged blue like his favorite blueberry Popsicle

was he going to die?

"Help."

he breathed

----------------------------------------------

I shot upward in bed,
like a compressed spring had been attached to my back,
shoving me into wakefulness.

gasping for air that was already there
I shuddered
like ice water was poured down my spinal column
rubbing my frozen finger tips together with a soft
"shft shft," noise of dry skin.
I pulled of the covers turning around in bed and pushing myself to my feet,
the heater lines under the tile meant it was warm
but I couldn't keep from shivering

I swore under my breath as my door squeaked open
and I shuffled over to the AC controls
the lights of the dying Christmas tree blinking in my peripheral vision
77 degrees
not remotely cold

My lips pressed together in a tight line
dreaming
of course as per usual
freaky as Friday

I sighed
and went back to bed