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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #1571822
A graphic description of a memory of home.
Faint memories of the world of glitter and light shy away into the deep shadows and recesses of my mind. In the real time world they are replaced by a blissful variety of grays elegantly combined, creating this glacial setting. My exposed skin quivers as cold coils about it. Time lapses every now and then, in and out, faster and slower, with no beginning and no end. Then, the small hairs in my ears prickle as a sound piercingly vibrates across the cold air. The insistent words compel me away from this eerie dramatic world. Cold brings dull throbbing that fractures my whole body, ripping, cracking, and shredding through raw flesh. Pulsing pain and severe cold lash out at me, though unable to extinguish the memory of warmth that burns within. On the threshold I bid farewell to the spiteful cold. A tantalizing wish resides in the delicate snow that stirs my soul. With great sorrow I deny myself the snow and the enticing promises it possesses. I turn.
Entering the house is like walking into the sun after being out in the dark of early evening. The warmth of the house stings my cheeks and makes me want to turn around and run outside, but I know the stinging will go away in a minute. Scratchy knit gloves protect my hands from the warmth of a mug of hot chocolate, as it slowly melts the small snowflakes clinging to me. Warmth flows from the ceramic mug through the gloves into my fingers, pulsing up my wrists and arms. Compared to the unforgiving sharpness of the air outside the house is full of exotic smells. Strong cinnamon mixed with chocolate spirals up to my nose, followed by the large ham in the oven left to cook. Suddenly the realization of bitter cold comes to me and desperate to fight it off I bring the mug to my lips and take a huge gulp. Instantly I react to the intense burning in my mouth and start to spit the chocolate back into the mug. Instantly I have a great need to breathe, but my mouth is still filled with boiling liquid. What precious little air is left inside of me explodes upward and I can feel myself coughing and choking. Thunderous laughter booms over my head as my eye become wet with tears. I crawl up the stairs away from the big giants, still prickling all over with cold. I curl myself up on the hard kitchen floor at the base of the refrigerator and feel the warm air clinging to my coat. Shimmering warmth covers me like a blanket, and I feel safe. Knowing I'm it home I close my eyes and let the giants words lull me to a sound sleep.
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