Advent Calendar - 3rd December 2008
by Leesa Perrue
Thank you to Jayne Perry for the beta-reading.
Boots scrunching through freshly fallen snow. Moon shining
brightly, silvering the houses, the gardens, the town. Breath
huffing out steaming clouds, the clean sharp smell of cold night air,
the sting of ice on his face.
Hands buried in coat pockets, gloved but still cold. Hood up,
scarf wrapped around his neck, hunched against the cold, trudging
onwards with endless walking to be done.
The people sleep, little knowing of his passage through their
town. It’s better that way - he can take some food and pass
on; unseen, unheard, unknown. A few hours grace; he must be gone
before those that hunt him locate him here.
Endless walking, running, fighting; it takes its toll on him. The
cold runs deep inside him - not just the cold of this place, but a cold
that grips his heart, tight. Shutting down, moving on, fighting
back; nothing else can be allowed to intrude on this.
So with boots scrunching through freshly fallen snow, he takes what he
needs to survive and moves on, so that the people will not be caught up
in a culling of his doing, like once before.
Guilt. There can be little place for that either.
So he shoves it down, tries to do better. Over time, the gloves,
the scarf, even the boots and coat, are lost. He replaces only
what he can, where he can. And all the while, he grows colder,
even on the warmest of worlds.
Running. Fighting. Moving on.
Frozen inside, and yet surviving against the odds.
Until a sun burned world changes his path, sets him free.
And the thaw begins.