Posts Tagged ‘cold

24
Dec
09

Work In Progress

The wind stung our cheeks and levered crystals of moisture from our tear ducts. Aaron grabbed my hand and dragged me, my thick feet stumbling, into the last remaining full-length phone booth. He shouted over the gale threatening our sanctuary, “Think of something sad.”
“Like what?”
“Think of Albert. Think of him dumping the box of Legos on Christmas morning. Surveying his new-built city and strutting like an emperor. And we’ll never see him.”
The tears surprisingly swift and sweet in the warmth they brought to the surface, coursed down my cheeks. I felt my face thaw and then sag as if I were melting. I rubbed my face on Aaron’s scarf and the earthy scent of the wool tickled my nose.
“You’re right,” I said into his neck, my words chipped, sharp. “That’s why I can’t forgive you.”