Flash Fiction: Heavy Winter Sky (99 words)

“You’re still here,” Jekiah said.

Fingers bunched in her collar, Wynn pulled her coat tight without a mind for the insignias, or the soldier’s stitches in the shoulders. It was just thick wool, bold-faced to the cold wind that tried to cut through her. “I’m still here,” she repeated.

And there was something about the ice bite on the backs of her hands that reminded her what warmth was in her blood. There was something in the black winter sky that carried such undeniable weight, that to stand straight underneath it was proof and testament and promise of what sort of iron she was built from.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )


Connecting to %s