Like glowing cinders landing in a snow bank, only to be extinguished by the cold, wet snow. Even in the midst of hundreds, probably thousands of people, Zoe felt utterly and truly alone.
Cursing at the lack of focus in her eyes, he peeled off her frozen clothes, tested the water, and judging it to be only slightly warmer than her skin, eased her in.
I tapped the bar with my empty beer bottle, hoping the cute bartender would make good on her promise and keep the cold ones coming.
Sharp Blades (work in progress)
The dampness intensified the cold, permeating to the marrow of her bones. Nevertheless, she trudged on. Lying down and giving up wasn’t an option.
Juliet’s toes curled against the tile floor, and her warm breath filmed the cold glass. The moon hung full, like the night he left on his mission. The night he left her.
When Next We Meet (work in progress)
Evening tiptoed in earlier and earlier, taking away the bright days of sunlight and bringing the long dark nights of cold.
Serial killers were different. They worked from a different plane. Cold. Methodical. Brutal.