Tuesday, December 24, 2013

100 Words a Day 492

He woke upon feeling the covers move as she slipped back into bed.

“I was just throwing some logs on the fire,” she whispered in his ear.

He smiled and wrapped her up in his arms, letting the smell of her hair permeate his brain. She shut her eyes and nestled close.

Sighing, he looked out the window.

Outside, the stillness was broken only by the snow was falling in large, soft flakes. It settled on the grass, covering the ground in cool, crisp, silence. Inside the stillness was broken only by the crackling orange and red of the fire.

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