Friday, 19 April 2013

'The Comfort of Cold' by Jane Roberts


Imprinted in the snow, memories of ski-hopping birds of prey lead up to ruby crystalline evidence of a recent kill. Here, things live or die with a rapidity lacking in the human world, snow temporarily recording all interactions.
Standing still, snowflakes flurry onto me.
I could brush them away. I could.
There’s a hospital bed – waiting to be remade for some other Hopeless. The whiteboard on the bed frame wiped – the ghost of a name remaining. My name.
But the snow is better. Far cleaner – to don a shroud of void and then to melt into a new dimension.

1 comment:

FlashFlood Submission Window: 25 - 31 May 2020

Flash Flood will be open for submissions from 00:01 BST Monday, 25 May to 23:59 BST Sunday, 31 May. We are happy to read up to three 500-...