writing

Chilling

Suspended, her heart felt suspended in her chest. Breathing was not coming easy; it was shallow as her chest rose and fall.

Her fingers and toes were chilled through, despite gloves and socks and shoes. The air whipped her cheeks and turned her nose red.

She turned, giving in. Not today; the warmth of the house lured her back inside. She shut the door and slid out of her shoes.

Tomorrow will be another day. A better day. She made her way to the kitchen and heated up the kettle. She worked on the dishes as her tea brewed.

Finally done, she made her way to the sofa and found a movie to watch. Her cats piled on, ready to cuddle. She sipped her tea and melted into the pillows, enjoying her Sunday.

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