Cold

A short story.

Wind cuts through my frozen jacket, slicing at my skin, gnawing at my bones.
Opaque moonlight, dark sky, sea of endless drifts.

Walking…Walking…Walking

Which direction? Don’t know anymore.
Heart pulses, waves of warmth, a little less each time.

Breath…Step…Stumble

Into the snow, sharp ice beneath.
Burning cold.
Reach out, stretch fingers, feel the ice.
Not ice.
Steel.
Old hatch, frozen and buried.
Look around.
Nothing left.
Nowhere to go but down.

Grasp the metal, pull it slowly, feel it creak and give.
Black tunnel, concrete walls.
Flickering light ahead.

Drag myself, stumble in, the cold wind tries to follow.
Leave it behind.
Light flickers.

Old shaft, broken gate, something just beyond.
Push toward it, yearning.
Shimmy through the crack.

Beautiful.
Pillars like ice, formed with purpose.
Frozen flowers, soft and blue.
Fountains, windows, structured form.
Old light flickers, gentle hum.
Someone here, crying softly.
Take one last step.
Hold each other close.
The light fades away.