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Cold hands, warm heart
His dark, brown eyes look deep into mine. “Are you cold?” - I smile and nod at him. Even if I wasn’t cold at all, I would have said I was. Knowing his arms would wrap around me, his breath travelling down my neck as he towers over me, protecting me from anything.
The sky wrapped around the fields, black and clear. I tried to make pictures in the night, with my eyes drawing dots to dots. The air was frozen though; it began to hurt my hands. I looked down at them. “Why didn’t you bring your gloves?” A deep voice broke the silence. I giggled to myself. It’s true you see, No matter how hard you try, you marry someone just like your Father. It’s not a bad thing. But it brought me back. A perfect moment between me and him, cosy in his embrace, the night’s display shining on us, for us – and I’m distracted. Another man steals my heart away.
“Jess... Jess” – My Mum is pulling a woolly hat over my ears and zipping my jacket. I’m pulling away from her, looking at my little brother courageously clasping a freshly patted snowball in his hands. He waddles as he walks, lost underneath the many layers of clothing, his eyes widen and a smile of glee stretches across his face. He watches his Dad, as he hops from one spot in the snow to another, leaving giant patches of green in the white blanket before him.
Mum’s adjusting earmuffs on top of my hat, and the scarf around my neck. I feel warm and completely isolated from the outside which I’m standing. Every part of me is toasty, except my face which is exposed to the bitter air leaving a prickly sensation on my cheeks. I waddle towards the battle field. Giggling, I bend down and clasp some snow in my hands – except its cold and wet. It penetrates through my gloves and touches my warm hands.
I look back at Mum who is watching Dad run towards my brother and my brother waddle away in shock to fall flat down in excitement.
Still the snow dust seeps into the material that is now letting the cold chill slice through my hands. I’m cold, really cold. I drop the snow and the excited feeling bubbles down to my stomach and I feel heavy inside. I feel wet all over as I rub my prickly cheeks with a wet glove. I look to the floor and pull the gloves off of my hands and leave the bright pink sopping suspects beside me in the snow.
Before realisation sets in my little brother is racing at me with two white clumps in his hands and I panic! The wet, cold, slimy feeling runs from my hands all over my body and I freeze at the thought of impact. His cheeks are rouged with cold and he is smiling at me with his little black gloves, wet from the snow in his hands. I look to the left and right of me plotting a route for escape. I look at Mum who is smiling at us – I’m completely desperate and WOOOSH! I am flying in the air as two big hands have swooped me from underneath my armpits. My legs trail as the white of the garden and dark colours of the house whiz past my eyes. I am placed on the ground and I have been rescued, no white is left in my brothers hands. I look down at my own, with misery. “Why didn’t you bring your Gloves?” - A deep voice breaks the silence. I look up at the stars and giggle. “They were wet!”.
His dark, brown eyes look deep into mine. “Are you cold?” - I smile and nod at him. Even if I wasn’t cold at all, I would have said I was. Knowing his arms would wrap around me, his breath travelling down my neck as he towers over me, protecting me from anything.
The sky wrapped around the fields, black and clear. I tried to make pictures in the night, with my eyes drawing dots to dots. The air was frozen though; it began to hurt my hands. I looked down at them. “Why didn’t you bring your gloves?” A deep voice broke the silence. I giggled to myself. It’s true you see, No matter how hard you try, you marry someone just like your Father. It’s not a bad thing. But it brought me back. A perfect moment between me and him, cosy in his embrace, the night’s display shining on us, for us – and I’m distracted. Another man steals my heart away.
“Jess... Jess” – My Mum is pulling a woolly hat over my ears and zipping my jacket. I’m pulling away from her, looking at my little brother courageously clasping a freshly patted snowball in his hands. He waddles as he walks, lost underneath the many layers of clothing, his eyes widen and a smile of glee stretches across his face. He watches his Dad, as he hops from one spot in the snow to another, leaving giant patches of green in the white blanket before him.
Mum’s adjusting earmuffs on top of my hat, and the scarf around my neck. I feel warm and completely isolated from the outside which I’m standing. Every part of me is toasty, except my face which is exposed to the bitter air leaving a prickly sensation on my cheeks. I waddle towards the battle field. Giggling, I bend down and clasp some snow in my hands – except its cold and wet. It penetrates through my gloves and touches my warm hands.
I look back at Mum who is watching Dad run towards my brother and my brother waddle away in shock to fall flat down in excitement.
Still the snow dust seeps into the material that is now letting the cold chill slice through my hands. I’m cold, really cold. I drop the snow and the excited feeling bubbles down to my stomach and I feel heavy inside. I feel wet all over as I rub my prickly cheeks with a wet glove. I look to the floor and pull the gloves off of my hands and leave the bright pink sopping suspects beside me in the snow.
Before realisation sets in my little brother is racing at me with two white clumps in his hands and I panic! The wet, cold, slimy feeling runs from my hands all over my body and I freeze at the thought of impact. His cheeks are rouged with cold and he is smiling at me with his little black gloves, wet from the snow in his hands. I look to the left and right of me plotting a route for escape. I look at Mum who is smiling at us – I’m completely desperate and WOOOSH! I am flying in the air as two big hands have swooped me from underneath my armpits. My legs trail as the white of the garden and dark colours of the house whiz past my eyes. I am placed on the ground and I have been rescued, no white is left in my brothers hands. I look down at my own, with misery. “Why didn’t you bring your Gloves?” - A deep voice breaks the silence. I look up at the stars and giggle. “They were wet!”.
Nice! I liked the ending!
Cold hands, warm heart
His dark, brown eyes look deep into mine. “Are you cold?” - I smile and nod at him. Even if I wasn’t cold at all, I would have said I was. Knowing his arms would wrap around me, his breath travelling down my neck as he towers over me, protecting me from anything.
The sky wrapped around the fields, black and clear. I tried to make pictures in the night, with my eyes drawing dots to dots. The air was frozen though; it began to hurt my hands. I looked down at them. “Why didn’t you bring your gloves?” A deep voice broke the silence. I giggled to myself. It’s true you see, No matter how hard you try, you marry someone just like your Father. It’s not a bad thing. But it brought me back. A perfect moment between me and him, cosy in his embrace, the night’s display shining on us, for us – and I’m distracted. Another man steals my heart away.
“Jess... Jess” – My Mum is pulling a woolly hat over my ears and zipping my jacket. I’m pulling away from her, looking at my little brother courageously clasping a freshly patted snowball in his hands. He waddles as he walks, lost underneath the many layers of clothing, his eyes widen and a smile of glee stretches across his face. He watches his Dad, as he hops from one spot in the snow to another, leaving giant patches of green in the white blanket before him.
Mum’s adjusting earmuffs on top of my hat, and the scarf around my neck. I feel warm and completely isolated from the outside which I’m standing. Every part of me is toasty, except my face which is exposed to the bitter air leaving a prickly sensation on my cheeks. I waddle towards the battle field. Giggling, I bend down and clasp some snow in my hands – except its cold and wet. It penetrates through my gloves and touches my warm hands.
I look back at Mum who is watching Dad run towards my brother and my brother waddle away in shock to fall flat down in excitement.
Still the snow dust seeps into the material that is now letting the cold chill slice through my hands. I’m cold, really cold. I drop the snow and the excited feeling bubbles down to my stomach and I feel heavy inside. I feel wet all over as I rub my prickly cheeks with a wet glove. I look to the floor and pull the gloves off of my hands and leave the bright pink sopping suspects beside me in the snow.
Before realisation sets in my little brother is racing at me with two white clumps in his hands and I panic! The wet, cold, slimy feeling runs from my hands all over my body and I freeze at the thought of impact. His cheeks are rouged with cold and he is smiling at me with his little black gloves, wet from the snow in his hands. I look to the left and right of me plotting a route for escape. I look at Mum who is smiling at us – I’m completely desperate and WOOOSH! I am flying in the air as two big hands have swooped me from underneath my armpits. My legs trail as the white of the garden and dark colours of the house whiz past my eyes. I am placed on the ground and I have been rescued, no white is left in my brothers hands. I look down at my own, with misery. “Why didn’t you bring your Gloves?” - A deep voice breaks the silence. I look up at the stars and giggle. “They were wet!”.
His dark, brown eyes look deep into mine. “Are you cold?” - I smile and nod at him. Even if I wasn’t cold at all, I would have said I was. Knowing his arms would wrap around me, his breath travelling down my neck as he towers over me, protecting me from anything.
The sky wrapped around the fields, black and clear. I tried to make pictures in the night, with my eyes drawing dots to dots. The air was frozen though; it began to hurt my hands. I looked down at them. “Why didn’t you bring your gloves?” A deep voice broke the silence. I giggled to myself. It’s true you see, No matter how hard you try, you marry someone just like your Father. It’s not a bad thing. But it brought me back. A perfect moment between me and him, cosy in his embrace, the night’s display shining on us, for us – and I’m distracted. Another man steals my heart away.
“Jess... Jess” – My Mum is pulling a woolly hat over my ears and zipping my jacket. I’m pulling away from her, looking at my little brother courageously clasping a freshly patted snowball in his hands. He waddles as he walks, lost underneath the many layers of clothing, his eyes widen and a smile of glee stretches across his face. He watches his Dad, as he hops from one spot in the snow to another, leaving giant patches of green in the white blanket before him.
Mum’s adjusting earmuffs on top of my hat, and the scarf around my neck. I feel warm and completely isolated from the outside which I’m standing. Every part of me is toasty, except my face which is exposed to the bitter air leaving a prickly sensation on my cheeks. I waddle towards the battle field. Giggling, I bend down and clasp some snow in my hands – except its cold and wet. It penetrates through my gloves and touches my warm hands.
I look back at Mum who is watching Dad run towards my brother and my brother waddle away in shock to fall flat down in excitement.
Still the snow dust seeps into the material that is now letting the cold chill slice through my hands. I’m cold, really cold. I drop the snow and the excited feeling bubbles down to my stomach and I feel heavy inside. I feel wet all over as I rub my prickly cheeks with a wet glove. I look to the floor and pull the gloves off of my hands and leave the bright pink sopping suspects beside me in the snow.
Before realisation sets in my little brother is racing at me with two white clumps in his hands and I panic! The wet, cold, slimy feeling runs from my hands all over my body and I freeze at the thought of impact. His cheeks are rouged with cold and he is smiling at me with his little black gloves, wet from the snow in his hands. I look to the left and right of me plotting a route for escape. I look at Mum who is smiling at us – I’m completely desperate and WOOOSH! I am flying in the air as two big hands have swooped me from underneath my armpits. My legs trail as the white of the garden and dark colours of the house whiz past my eyes. I am placed on the ground and I have been rescued, no white is left in my brothers hands. I look down at my own, with misery. “Why didn’t you bring your Gloves?” - A deep voice breaks the silence. I look up at the stars and giggle. “They were wet!”.