Cold Words

Posted on November 9, 2012

16


copied from Friday Fictioneers

I mentally traced the tiny fractal patterns on the window as she kept talking to me. What if there was nothing beyond? Was my friend’s house still there, across the road? I had to trust the shadow that broke the endless grey brightness pouring in through the frost. If the frost was the new limit of the world, the ice would creep over my soul again as well. I would never escape this cold room, or the words that fell on my ears like shards from her mouth. If I shattered, would it make patterns like the frost?

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Posted in: fiction