((
))
Leaning into the wind, feeling the snow whip around my ears and neck and unprotected face. Flecks of white ice sticking strong to my beard, refusing to budge for any nonsense or warmth. It sticks to the toes of my shoes and the top of my hat. It stings as it cuts across my eyes, forcing my chin to be buried in my chest.
Head down and shoulders hunched, mingling through the crowds and cars and slick parking lots. Trudging along, hearing the voices in my ears telling me that all my fears are real. It's not paranoia if you're right. The threads on the outside of my jacket begin to become frosted with white, while the cheap imitation leather stays smooth and dark. There's at least a silver lining on my jacket.
And it grows darker by the moment, clouds silently sailing across the sky overhead, bearing this precipitation down on this small strip of the world. I can feel my nose begin to freeze up, sniffing regularly to keep my jacket clean.
And that fucking snow keeps biting at the bottoms of my ears, the scrubbed parts of my neck, my lips, and my eyes.
The wind changes directions and smacks it all up into my face. I can't turn. I have to stay in that direction. Helpless. But trudging along.
Alone with the wind and the voices and the stinging shards of snow, I can feel my eyes watering up. My shoulders can't get hunched any higher, and my chin can't bury itself any deeper, and I just hope to fuck that my lips are too frozen to move. "It's just the wind," I think, "it's just the wind. "
White lies and white snow. Merry fucking winter.
No comments:
Post a Comment