[H Mar. 02, 2013] Short Scrap for Winter
Winter can be lethal. When the temperature plummets, the chill wind will insinuate itself into your life. It seeps into your system. Also it cuts your bones.
The cold breath of winter was haunting everywhere. It flowed by street corner and well-shadowed small stalls. Warm places had been closed in the eve. Shops shut. Doors locked. No home left. And one can either walk along the long long street or sleep in the biting wind, and die.
It is a fair choice.
Sweet aroma of roast mutton and pork ribs mixed with fragrance of herbs, spices and hot milk. An atmosphere of warm and comfort filled every corner indoors. The orange light was so like a flare. And it was such unaccessibly gleaming outside. To some people, even sun shimmers.
The crisp air stole temperature from flesh and blood even though it had gone the way of all flesh. Skeletal fingers trembled under linen, wool, and those unnamed fabrics, some part of which was fiber, in fact.