Literature
A Slow Burn
It is dark here, and cold. So cold that it feels like I’m burning from the freeze. Fire and ice coexisting together so peacefully, so intent on destroying me through ice and flame that they have not the time to spare to quarrel with one another. There is wind as well, always wind, and it cuts right through my tattered clothing and then my skin like a sharpened blade until it is embedded in bone. Then it sucks the heat from my marrow until all that I am is cold, so cold that I feel like I’m burning. I’m always burning; shouldn’t I have burned up by now? I’ve been burning in this cold wind for ages