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Weekly Contest #77
Snow. It had been a calming, cozy word not only a day ago. As my eyes moved from one tree to the next, they all looked the same, their branches heavy with pure white snow. The glass fogged every time I breathed out and slowly fades away, only to be fogged again. I could feel the pulse at the edge of my numb fingers beneath the gloves and my feet were hugged to my chest. Am I going to die here? The faint memory of me stumbling between the trees, my feet deep in snow, and bursting into the cabin that I didn’t even know existed, ...
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