The air was so cold my lungs screamed with every breath and I had lost all feeling in my feet a while ago. Something I was grateful for, as they too had been in agony from the intense cold.
My breath seemed to hang in the air, inches from my face, the moisture rendered heavy enough to linger. I wanted to stop, to stand still and watch what would happen. Would my frozen breath drop to the ground like human snow?
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About Sue Vincent
Sue Vincent is a Yorkshire-born writer and one of the Directors of
The Silent Eye, a modern Mystery School. She writes alone and with
Stuart France, exploring ancient myths, the mysterious landscape of Albion and the inner journey of the soul. Find out more at
France and Vincent. She is owned by a small dog who also blogs.
Follow her at
scvincent.com and on Twitter
@SCVincent. Find her books on
Goodreads and follow her on
Amazon worldwide to find out about new releases and offers. Email: findme@scvincent.com
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Reblogged this on The Militant Negro™.
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Thank you 🙂
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Thank you 🙂
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