Unlucky WinterI'm sitting with my back against a tree and frowning at the smoke rising from the pile of wood I've assembled. Smoke isn't warm. Fire is warm. However, smoke is what I've created here. I sigh and think about how smug I used to be when I watched disaster movies. It was easy to have the answers when I was on the couch, wrapped in a blanket as the central heat billowed through the room in waves that always drove my family to seek cooler shelter.Unlucky Winter in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I don't like the cold. I emphatically hate winter in fact. Why couldn't the world have ended in spring when there was hope? Or in summer when I was outside anyway? No, it happened as fall gave up the fight, bowing and scraping under winter's steady gaze.
I feel myself frowning again and in frustration I kick the smoky wood, listening to the dull thud as my meticulously built triangle falls in a shower of bark and ash. No more than it deserves. I laugh at the thought and it's too loud for the fragile winter air. I wince as the silence fragments int