He lay, entombed in mud and ice and darkness. He’d lain there so long that fine, tough filaments had grown over his limbs, the bridge of his nose, twining around the desiccated, corded column of his neck. He’d pull the blanket higher, cover the chilled vee of his pajama top…but no…too much of an effort. He’d gone too far away. Continue reading
Spoon coffee grounds into the BPA-free filter, the scent a bright hit in the ice-crystal kitchen. Cat slurps his morning meal, shoulders hunched protectively over his bowl. Continue reading
“Pull off it. Like a sweater!”
“I’m sorry. What?”
“Like a sweater. Pull! Off! It!”
“Are you having a stroke or something?”
She glared at him, vibrating with rage, and pushed the sleeves of her washed-out taupe cardigan up over her elbows and planted her feet.
He sighed, slid his glasses up his nose. “I have no frikkin’ clue,” he grunted.
It was then that he noticed the linoleum and cinder-black dayroom was empty. Continue reading