Winter is coming. As her body becomes thinner and thinner, the frost cuts like a blade. She feels it in her bones, no matter how many clothes she puts on. She seems to have caught a cold with no symptoms, other than this perpetual cold, which makes her numb. Everything’s still, even her thoughts. Sometimes she remembers what it was like when she was different. She used to be a bit round, but didn’t care much about that. Because she was warm. Because she could think and feel. This damn cold! Why does everyone tell her she is beautiful? The tinier she gets, the more they admire her. Of course they do. They cannot truly see. The real is always hidden from the eyes. The eyes can never truly see. They cannot feel the cold. For summer’s daughter to embrace the ice is humanly impossible and yet, it’s creeped inside. She let it in. To feel? Or to be cold? That, she no longer knows. It’s winter and all’s frozen.
SLOWAHOLIC® 