Friday, December 21, 2012

100 Words a Day 133

The snow was cold against his face. The last time he’d fallen, the shock of the cold had brought him back to full consciousness. Not this time however. The cold snow felt warm against his cheek. He wanted to nestle down in the soft snow and drift off to warm dreams.

He started to drift away, imagining the last time he had seen Viviana. She had worn her hair down, despite the summer heat. She had done it because he loved the way it shimmered in the sun. As they lay in the grass, her soft hand brushed his cheek.

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