Sniff. Stricken by Jack Frost's chilling whisper, I draw my scarf above my peachy nose and pull it tight. The gentle breeze rushes past me, and apparently directly into my eyes. I clutch the paper cup with white fingers, eyes watering. Blinking through the sheer cold I bask in the petite vapour of steam rising from the cup. Pulling it close to my face I feel warmth again and take a long drink. The sweet rhythm of cocoa and milk hums a little lullaby to me, sending waves of fire through my body. A soft exhale. Sniff. Momentary relief from Mother Nature's harsh will. I turn my head forward, facing an army of soldiering snowflakes that begin to raid the land. I crumple the empty cup and toss it into an ivory can. Tucking my woolen scarf on my face, I take the first step forward.
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Nakysha's Bizarre Tales
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