Her Breath Was In The Air. Not Mine.
‘It started to rain a couple weeks ago and continued in that fashion. Nothing too heavy, just random droplets that would lightly sway to the ground. Droplets like easy cold pin pricks that never broke skin. Nothing out of the ordinary.’
The old man stared out through frosted glass. Nothing but white.
‘The cold swept in a week later except I didn’t feel nothing. She, on the other hand, wouldn’t dare leave the house. Wrapped in layers upon layers and sat next to the heater but ever shivering. I didn’t understand. She wasn’t running a fever or looked ill at all. But there she sat shivering.’
A comforting hand now rest across his shoulder. He looked up, and then back down and continued.
’Wasn’t till we turned on the television it came together. That was our fault, we never turned on the bloody thing. Not that knowing would change it. They said it took those that did wrong but she never did wrong. Not to me.’ He wept. ‘I watched the frost slowly take her while my heart thumped as warm as it had ever been.’