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I stand on the bridge as snowflakes fall down to meet me.
The sun may shine, but I can’t feel it’s heat here in this place.
The ice creeps along the river below me, slowly making its approach.
I look out at the clumps of grey trees and crumpled flowers,
Not quite dead, but not quite lively.
The snow gathers on the edges of the bridge, trying to keep the ice at bay.
But still, the ice crawls up the bridge.
The clouds have hidden the sun away.
I shudder and hug myself, bracing for the cold.
The ice climbs.
I reach out.
A hand takes mine, and suddenly the bitter frost disappears.
I can’t meet the snowflakes anymore.
I can’t see the clouds, nor the sun.
The bridge has turned to a void beneath my feet.
As my new friend leads me away, I can’t feel warmth nor cold.
But at least the ice has gone.