Cold

 

The drift was now more than halfway up my window and the howling wind had not given up its struggle to find a way in.  Door jambs and even the chimney sounded like timber wolves snapping to get at my survival.  I couldn’t afford to lose power, for once that was gone it would only be a matter of time before what little heat I did have would be replaced with a stillness that only the dead of winter understood.

I desperately wanted to turn on the television to see what was happening all around me, but the fear of the power draw on the system causing it to fail was too great.  For that reason alone, I didn’t even flip on the radio.  I had my space heater and a few oil lamps going and that would have to do.  If there were any neighbors alive out there, they’d see my lights and pound on my door.  So far – there was nothing.   Nothing outside but a blinding blizzard and a distressing absence of hope.

For just a moment I allowed my thoughts to wander out beyond my current situation, to a place I knew in Florida.  It was warm all year, every day.  A person could just walk outside, no coat, no gloves or scarf.  I found myself smiling at the thought of it, until a sudden rap upon my door startled me back to the moment.  Was someone truly there or had my thoughts conjured up some passer-by, carrying with them a bowl of warm soup.  Such a neighbor I had not known.  In my shivering state I found it difficult to remember just who my immediate neighbors were.  Had I ever met them?

Again, a pound upon my wooden door, loud and insistent but who were they and what could they possibly want?  Did they really expect me to unlock my shelter, possibly allowing the wolves to gain access to my frozen fingers?  And what about my feet?  I had not felt them in some time.  Could I even make my way to the door, leaving the rest of me curled up here?  Surely my body warmth has taken up residence in these floorboards, keeping me from drifting off again.

I should write this down, but I doubt the simple title of cold would be adequate to express this drifting conscientious.  I should dig much deeper into the alphabet, maybe eight more letters down, where the K resides.  It is always dark and freezing at that depth, so spelling cold with a K would be adequate warning to those pounding upon my door.

I think maybe first I'll have a little nap.  I'm so tired..