05 May, 2014

Frosty morning

I woke to find the world encased in cold, crisp crystal layers. Where every breath is like a puff of steam and red, benumbed noses are expected. Through the frosted windows, the world is shattered in coloured shards and the clothes you try to dress in seem to be as stiff as card. The water from the tap, feels like snow melt from the mountains and while the coffee's boiling the steam drips condensation. To gain some warmth, hands are wrapped tight around the mug, while face leans toward the brew and a thick coat is buttoned snug.

The light is dim and sullen, coloured through with greys. The earth smells sharp and sudden, assaulting nasal ways. Grass crunches beneath the feet and wind bites at the ears, while it scratches at the eyes and brings unbidden tears.

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