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by Elsa Cunnington

I didn’t understand at first. 
Why was it so cold?
Why was I here? 
Knee deep in a blizzard, overzealous hair lashing at my frostbitten cheeks, I knew no one was coming to save me. 
Dressed only in my summer pyjamas, I shivered, teeth chattering, staring into the unknown. 
This place, it felt so familiar, yet I knew it wasn’t right. I should have fallen under long ago. 

Words whipped by on wings of freezing wind. 
They were the only thing I could differentiate from the white chaos that engulfed me. 
The wind picked up, and my legs gave way. 
I crumpled into a pillow of powder, which was oddly warmer than the remorseless wind above. I was ready to give up. 
Upon closing my eyes, I felt the wind stop. 
When I reopened them and stood, I saw the blizzard had dissipated. 
I recognized nothing of my surroundings.

I knew then, I was lost, stranded in a field of snow; suspended in my own thoughts.

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