I cringe.
The crisp winter air bites my cheeks
The pain so unbearable
I pull my scarf tighter around my neck.
I stumble.
The air so breathless and cold
I cannot feel my toes
My sled trudging behind me as i shuffle on.
I am a broken old mule,
hauling my stiff joints upon the most capacious mountain
waiting for my pleasant treasure
A sign of survival
water
Huffing, i finally arrive to my destination
Kicking my boots off and proceeding to a canter
A bee-line for the cozy kitchen
My unsuspecting mother hands me my mug
my rosy face intrigued with new found warmth
I stare into the depths of an unknown, auburn world
Raising the large mug to my dry mouth
all evil frostiness is pushed away in indignation
I sigh and look out the foggy window
"May i go sledding?" I ask again.
