NaPoWriMo Day Twenty-Eight
So, a backwards story is the prompt for today. A little strange, but let’s see what we can do with it. A Change In Season That was when the thaw came. Fingers blue and black against the ice, blood can freeze if you get it cold enough, still just enough life to shiver, teeth like tic-tacs rattling in a box, the pin pricks of goosebumps, one cool breeze to lift tiny hairs, a chill along the spine, clothes in a pile on the sand legs bare to the winter sun, footsteps towards the waves. The sea takes bites out of the cliff-face each night.