Winter Hair

I worked the morning shift today and, up until I was trying to leave, work was incredibly slow. After running out of ways to keep myself busy I decided to do some writing.  It's awfully peaceful in the mornings at Sam's when two or three members straggle through the store.  Anyway, along with a page or two for a piece of fiction that I'm working on, this is what I came up with.  It's a little out of season, but being in Georgia has deprived me of my winters, so I'll write about them year round. So here it is:


Winter Hair

The tips of her trembling toes entice me, peeking from beneath the fire-soaked wool of her blanket.  “The winter’s

too cold,” she says ,”Let’s migrate south like the geese where I’ll never have to bother with icicles again.   But I like

the goosebumps forming on her freckled forearm as she clutches the blanket tighter to her chest. “Come,” she says, “Hold me close,” and I know

the sweet scent of home lies in her cold, winter hair.